


See You On The Other Side

by Wolveria



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, CT-7567 | Rex Needs a Hug, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death Fix, Clones, Fives is alive, Fives no that's illegal, Fix-It, Gen, Star Wars Big Bang 2020, The Force, The Jedi Council makes bad decisions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:41:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 33,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24002251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolveria/pseuds/Wolveria
Summary: Captain Rex had lost enough brothers. Too many of them.It was nearly enough to break the man as he held his wounded brother to his chest, but there was one faint glimmer of hope.Fives was alive.
Relationships: CT-27-5555 | Fives | ARC-5555 & CT-7567 | Rex
Comments: 84
Kudos: 168
Collections: Echo&Fives, Star Wars Big Bang 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> How long have I been promising this story? At least 4 years? It took me the return of the show to kick my butt and here we are.
> 
> Completed for the Star Wars Big Bang of 2020, this story is told from Rex's point of view. We follow him as he deals with the fallout of Fives' attempted assassination of the Chancellor and subsequent survival. There's a lot of forces working against him, but the Force itself just might be on his side.
> 
> Leave a comment if you like. This is my oldest Star Wars wip, and I'm happy for it to finally see the light of day.

As the Republic police gunship touched down on Level 1325, sector I-9, warehouse 18, Captain Rex had a _bad_ feeling.

The sensation in his gut only worsened as General Skywalker disembarked, barely leaving time for the transparisteel canopy to hiss and rise out of his way, the captain leaping down and following in his footsteps as they briefly surveyed the entrance platform.

The unofficial mission tasked by the Jedi was a simple one: capture renegade clone trooper Fives for attempted assassination of the Supreme Chancellor. The priority was to bring him in alive. Discretion was paramount.

Rex could read between the lines. One clone gone AWOL was bad enough; two was cause enough to question the entire stability and viability of the 501st, regardless if some outside influence (separatist plot? virus? _both?_ ) was involved. This mission was personal in more ways than one.

But there were other reasons for the tightness in the captain’s throat; this wasn’t the first time he’d been ordered to hunt down a fellow soldier. A _friend_. Rex could only hope this mission didn’t end in failure as well, with his brother escaping into the bowels of Coruscant’s underbelly where he could do further harm to both himself and others.

Hells below, Rex prayed it didn’t go the other way, either. The captain had lost too many brothers on the battlefield, but at least there was honor in a warrior’s death. What they were doing now, hunting down a good man as if he were a rabid beast… there was so inherently _wrong_ about it that Rex was unable to put it into cohesive thought.

“Well, these are the coordinates Kix gave us,” General Skywalker observed in a low tone, pausing as he cast his eyes about the dingy platform. “Let’s hope Fives is inside.”

“Eh, I hope he knows what he’s doing,” Rex spoke with doubt coloring his words. This whole situation stunk of bantha shit, and he would be more than happy when it was concluded with Fives safely in Jedi hands. What happened beyond that was too far in the future for Rex to contemplate, and his focus needed to be on the here and now.

Skywalker slipped between the tall, narrow aperture in the warehouse doors, pausing at the looming darkness before them. Rex cast his own gaze around the massive space, gargantuan steel fans lazily circling overhead as their shadows took the lead.

Rex cast a glance at his commander as the Jedi powered his lightsaber, casting a lonely, azure glow ahead of them. The captain already had his twin DC-17 blaster pistols in hand, taking no chances when it came to what his brother had in store for them. Fives hadn’t become an ARC trooper because he was a docile kath hound, and the image of Tup snarling like an animal as he charged General Tiplee was still fresh in the captain’s mind.

It seemed whatever sickness had moved Tup to mindless ferocity was also plaguing Fives. That didn’t bode well for anyone involved. Rex still couldn’t quite understand how Fives had managed to escape the Republic medical facility, but he would do his damndest to make sure his fate wasn’t the same as Tup’s.

The captain followed his general, cautiously and with great care, as the darkness of the warehouse was kept at bay by the illuminating cobalt weapon, humming with a gentleness that belied its lethal bite.

“Fives?” Skywalker called out, Rex keeping a close eye over his commander’s shoulder. “Fives, we’re here. Come out. We just want to talk to you.”

He spoke in a firm, even voice, as if the strength in its timbre could compel the rogue soldier to step forward.

The relative silence of the Coruscant warehouse was all that greeted them, so they continued on, the hole in Rex’s stomach growing, millimeter by millimeter, with each step he took. He kept alert and battle-ready, the muzzles of his pistols aimed toward the ceiling.

Rex’s heart leapt into his throat as he heard his own voice echoing from the dark. The voice of a brother.

_“General Skywalker.”_

The duo paused. Rex scanned the darkness as he lowered one pistol. It was impossible to ascertain his location from the echo that resounded in the spacious building.

_“Thank you. Thank you for trusting me.”_

Rex walked closer to his general, covering his left flank from possible ambush, the Jedi’s lightsaber covering the right as they moved slowly forward.

_“Now, have you come without troops?”_

Skywalker paused; peering ahead as he slightly lifted his lightsaber in a futile effort to pierce the darkness.

“We have,” he confirmed, pivoting behind Rex as the trooper smoothly lifted his pistol; automatically covering the Jedi’s exposed back with his own.

The tension was an ugly thing, waiting to see if his brother would spring from the shadows in a suicidal move to take them by surprise, or if he would wait as they walked into a trap. It could go either way, and Rex had difficulty predicting his brother’s next moves even at the best of times.

Rex would have preferred facing a battalion of clankers, alone, with only his pistols, rather than be faced with this impossible situation ever again.

_“Put down your weapons, then!”_ the voice commanded as the captain and Jedi moved as one, slowly rotating in a semi-circle as they continued their attempt at pinpointing the ARC trooper’s hidden location.

“I don’t think so, Fives,” Skywalker replied without hesitation with Rex silently agreeing with him. Relinquishing their weapons was as good as exposing their jugulars to a potential danger. Neither of them would do such a thing unless they had no other options.

_“Please, sir!”_ Fives barked in response, his tone tinged at the edges with desperation which caused Rex to frown unhappily.

Desperate was not good. Desperate was unpredictable.

_“Please, I’m unarmed,”_ his voice added from the darkness, and Rex raised his eyebrows as he peered over his shoulder at Skywalker for his orders.

With a subtle nod, the General extinguished his lightsaber, and that was good enough for Rex. As they were plunged into near darkness, Rex clenched his jaw with a tension uncharacteristic of him, and stepped forward with his pistols still in hand.

“All right. I’m putting my pistols down,” Rex explained calmly, turning the weapons sideways as he slowly lowered them on a nearby crate. His hands remained in the air, palms forward to show he was indeed unarmed. Skywalker moved at his back, bringing himself closer to the captain as he asked:

“What are we here for, Fives?”

As the question was released into the dark, Skywalker brushed past Rex, his tone holding a tiredness and annoyance that was also uncharacteristic for the Jedi. It seemed the captain was not the only one who found distaste in this particular objective, but that was no small surprise. The general was protective of his troopers, and hunting down one of his own men was no doubt too close to the failed mission of capturing his former Padawan.

Ahsoka (no longer _Commander_ Tano, Rex constantly had to remind himself) had eventually been exonerated, but whatever had happened between her and the Jedi, the damage was evidently too great to repair as she had left the Order and never returned.

At least, that’s what the captain had ascertained after the trial. Not that General Skywalker ever talked about it. Not that Rex would ever ask.

_“I need your help,”_ Fives responded after a moment, causing Rex to lift his brows as he walked behind the Jedi’s back, still alert, _always_ alert for his lost brother to make an appearance.

“I know you do,” Skywalker responded with a bit more patience, chin slightly lifted as he projected his voice across the vast space. “We know you’re not well. It’s been rough for you these past couple days.”

_“I’m not crazy!”_ Fives snapped, already on the edge with hardly a push.

Rex moved closer to the General’s right side, eyes narrowing as they both peered in the same direction. Rex sensed they were getting closer – the echoes of his voice were losing their hollowed edge.

“Please, please just – just hear what I have to say.”

They both turned in unison, Fives’ words coming into focus as the echo was lost somewhere behind them. He was close, so _close_ ; near enough that Rex could hear the sound of panting. Quick, frightened animal breathing.

“We’re here to help you, Fives,” Skywalker explained soothingly as he began to stalk toward the direction they had heard the voice, a narrowed opening between various boxes and abandoned machinery. “Just come with us.”

This felt too familiar. It was an undercity warehouse instead of a municipal waterway, but the words, the intention, it was uncannily familiar. He could almost see blue-and-white striped montrals in his mind’s eye.

Skywalker continued to move forward and Rex followed, feeling unnervingly exposed without the twin grips of his pistols within his palms.

“Let us take you back to the Temple.”

There was a whoosh over Rex’s head, causing his muscles to flinch and his chest to burn with adrenaline. The noise was accompanied by the whine of a ray shield as white strands coiled on all sides, trapping them within the gossamer lightwebs of an energy barrier.

_“No!”_ Skywalker cried in sharp frustration as he pounded his fist against the thrumming, transparent cocoon.

Rex remained wordless; sticking close to his commander’s left shoulder as he peered past the shimmering barrier, knowing what was coming next. With the flawless efficiency of a highly-skilled ARC trooper, Fives had rendered his targets immobile and harmless with a single, clean move. The captain would have felt no small amount of pride, even if he was the intended target, if the situation hadn’t been so dire. How with each passing minute, the possibility of capturing his brother without incident was dwindling.

Fives’ effectiveness as an elite trooper was the very thing that was shrinking his chances of survival.

“I just need you to listen to me,” the gravelly voice responded, pleading from the edge of the light. _“Please!”_

Rex gaped at the man coming into view, wearing the plain white armor of a shiny. Without the tattooed sigil on his temple, Rex would have hardly recognized him. It had nothing to do with his shaved head and everything to do with the haunted look in his eyes. His voice was tight with agitation, his facial muscles taut with fearful urgency.

His eyes were darker than their usual golden-amber, molten and fierce and practically _feral._

“I’m not really sure we have any other choice!” Skywalker snapped in response, and for not the first time Rex wished his commander had a cooler head. But if Rex knew anything about his Jedi, he knew that Skywalker abhorred the feeling of not having control. And in this instance, their lives were completely within the hands of an unpredictable (and apparently unstable) elite soldier.

This was _not_ the moment for sharp tongues and injured pride, but Rex knew better than to say so. It would not improve their situation and only add fuel to Skywalker’s frustration.

“I was framed, because I know the truth!” Fives cried out, the strain and tremble in his voice painful as he tapped his breastplate with both hands. He paused for a moment, keeping his distance as he rubbed the back of his neck. “The truth about a plot. A massive deception.”

Skywalker crossed his arms and Rex didn’t need to look to know the deep frown that would be fixed there. So Rex chose that moment to step forward, and in a firm voice inquired, “By whom?”

“Well, there’s a sinister plot in the works against the Jedi!”

Fives refused to meet Rex’s gaze as he gestured wildly, cradling his head in an odd manner.

“I have proof of it!” Fives tapped his fingers against his chestplate again, now finally looking up to face Rex as he walked closer. “I can prove that everything that I know is true beyond a _shadow_ of a doubt!”

With each second, Fives’ gestures seemed to become less contained, almost unhinged, and Rex stared miserably at his brother. He hadn’t believed it—hadn’t dared to entertain the idea a clone could do something as heinous as attempt to assassinate the leader of the Republic. But that picture was coming into focus with every irrational word that flew from Fives’ mouth and every erratic gesture of his hands.

“Show me the evidence,” Skywalker demanded, arms crossed.

Fives once again cradled his head with a single hand as he dropped his gaze, abruptly childlike and lost in his mannerisms.

“The… evidence… is in here,” he spoke slowly, as if the words cost him great effort, pointing at his temple below his shaved hairline. “It’s-it’s in here.”

Fives reiterated more firmly, each word punctuated by another jab at his temple. “It’s in all of us, _every_ clone.” He gestured towards Rex, his voice almost returning to something akin to control toward the end of his sentence.

“What is it?” Rex asked as he tried his best to hold Fives’ gaze, willing him to maintain eye contact—anything to keep him grounded and interacting with Rex.

Fives hesitated for only a second before appearing to deflate, his voice softening as he braced his forearm against a nearby column, forehead resting against his gauntlet as he spoke.

“Organic chips. Built into our genetic code to make us do whatever someone wants…”

Fives seemed overwhelmed with weariness, and Rex began to hope—

“…even kill the _Jedi!”_

Fives lurched forward as if he were punch-drunk, jamming a finger against his temple once more.

“It’s all in here.”

Fives proclaimed again with another jab, his voice rough and edged, molten eyes round and glassy as they stared pleading at the captain through the shimmering barrier.

Rex was at a loss for words. He sensed Skywalker’s sideways glance, but the captain had nothing to offer him, instead rubbing the back of his neck in a gesture that was more habitual than voluntary.

Fives was completely irrational, possibly beyond reach, and Rex couldn’t think of a damned thing to say to him. For one of the rare moments in his life, he didn’t know what to _do._

“Let’s just get you some help first,” Skywalker stated in an even tone, and Rex was thankful the anger had seemed to vanish. Rex knew Skywalker genuinely wanted to get Fives home safely, just as much as the captain did. “Then we can review everything. It’ll be okay, Fives. We’ll sort this out.”

“Ah, you don’t _believe me!”_ Fives roared in a mixture of bright anger and heated frustration, and Rex half-expected him to lash out at whatever convenient object lay nearby from the way his shoulders tensed and his muscles coiled tightly.

Instead, the ARC trooper flinched, almost as if his own outburst had startled him, and he leaned against a stack of crates as he rubbed the back of his neck, mirroring Rex’s own earlier gesture.

That brief moment of vulnerability caused Rex to step forward, slightly distancing himself from the Jedi as he attempted to negotiate with the wild fear that was in his brother’s eyes.

“Fives, we _are_ listening to you. We only want to help,” Rex stated with much more calmness than he felt, dancing between the line of deception (he wouldn’t lie to Fives and say they _believed_ him) and empathy. It seemed to have some kind of effect. He could see the timid hope in Fives’ face, and he stepped forward, a gloved hand still chaffing the back of his neck.

“How do I know you’re not tricking me?” Fives asked, bringing his hands down and clenching them into fists of distress. “How do I know it won’t be a trap?”

The words hurt Rex far more than he knew they should. Fives was sick. He was downright suffering and in a state of mind where he couldn’t be held responsible for his actions, but the mistrust from a brother he had endured so much with stabbed at an invisible chink in his inner armor.

His face softened as he watched helplessly as Fives slowly unraveled at the seams right before their eyes, just on the other side of the blasted barrier.

“The Chancellor will try to kill me! I promise you that!”

“The Chancellor?” Skywalker moved forward, the words an accusation rather than a question as he glared at Fives through the gossamer barrier.

“He’s in on it!” Fives proclaimed, beginning to pace in front of them like a brewing storm as he cradled his head again. “I don’t know to what extent. But I know he orchestrated _much_ of this! He told me in the medical bay!”

Fives whirled around, eyes abruptly laser-focused as he looked between the Jedi and trooper.

Captain Rex would have sworn on his life that Fives had never looked more grounded and rational in that moment, which only served to tighten the coil of anxiety that had snaked itself around his ribs. Fives was so far gone, and he didn’t even _realize_ it.

“He told you?” Skywalker asked, stalking as close to the barrier as he could. Rex suddenly had the impression he was trapped in a cage with an angry beast. “When you tried to _assassinate_ him? You have gone too far, Fives. The Chancellor isn’t capable of what you claim.”

Skywalker’s tone was so _affronted_ that Rex wanted to grab the Jedi by the nape of his neck and give him a good shake, as if he was a cadet running off at the mouth during basic training. Skywalker’s personal feelings, his protectiveness over a man who needed no such protection, his heated tone was _not_ what Fives needed at that moment.

Fives’ next words and wild gestures confirmed this.

“He _is!_ I swear to you, General. You have no idea—”

_“Stand down, soldier!_

Fives whirled around as a tinny voice of a helmeted brother, full of authority, echoed across the vast chamber as a squad of troopers converged on them. Red-and-white colors announced their station as the Coruscant Guard, and Rex recognized the crimson helmet and sun visor of Commander Fox.

What made Rex’s heart freeze was the pistol gripped in his hands, his body turned sideways to make a smaller target as he advanced on their renegade brother with his men at his heels.

_“Stand down! Get on your knees!”_

_“_ No! No, no! _Stay back!”_ Fives responded, his hands waving in panic, as if the gesture alone would keep them at bay. His back almost against the barrier now. Rex could see the slight turn in his head, his eye-line falling on something nearby.

Rex’s pistols as they lay abandoned on the crates.

“Don’t do it! _Don’t do it, soldier!”_ Commander Fox barked, seeing exactly what was about to happen, just as Rex did. Just as they all did.

_“Get away from me!”_ Fives screamed in absolute, blood-curdling terror.

Time seemed to slow as Fives dashed forward and grabbed one of the pistols ( _his_ pistol!) scooping it up as a cry tore up from Rex’s throat, ripping him with its horror.

_“Fives, no!”_

The receiving answer was one with which he was familiar—haunting his dreams since the living nightmare that was Umbara. A brother shooting a brother. Impossible. Unthinkable.

Undeniable.

Rex felt as if he was very far away, watching the events unfold across a newsfeed from a distant star system. The way Fives’ body jerked, the smoke curdling past his shoulder, Rex’s pistol clattering to the dusty floor. His brother gasping for breath, chin angled downward to gaze at the burning circle that Rex could not see but knew was there. Fives stayed upright for a moment, stubborn in his innate refusal to be cowed by such a wound.

And then he buckled.

Rex’s paralysis broke, his consciousness flung back into his body with painful sharpness the same instant Fives began to fall. Rex screamed he hit the ground.

“Fives! _Fives!”_

His chest was pressed as close to the cursed barrier as possible, but even that was not enough, and he began to pound against the transparent wall as his heart seized and stuttered with terror, a strangled _“Fives…”_ somehow making it past his tightening larynx.

No. No no no _no no!_ Not Fives! _Not Fives!_

_“Get this ray shield off!”_ Skywalker roared, and a trooper raised his blaster, destroying the field emitter with one clean blast.

His brothers were nothing if not good shots.

The shield was extinguished in a shower of sparks, and Rex immediately descended on Fives, kneeling at his side and placing his hands across his chestplate as he softly pleaded, “Fives? Brother…”

The smoke was still curdling from the glowing hole in his armor, still burning the flesh within.

_Rex’s_ flesh, _Rex’s_ blood. This wasn’t just his brother; this was a part of _himself_ that lay on the floor gasping for air.

“Call for help!” Rex snapped at the nearby troopers, frozen with apparent shock. _“We need a medic!”_

The small sounds of Fives struggling to fill his lungs, straining with effort, brought Rex’s attention back as he reached up, breathing his name, _“Rex…”_

“Fives,” he responded softly, gripping his shoulder to keep him from struggling as Rex felt his own heart constrict, the organ’s paltry attempt to sympathize with the black wound in his brother’s chest.

“This… it’s bigger than any of us… than anything I could have imagined.”

Fives was straining to breathe, his amber eyes fixated on Rex’s face, each word heavy and punctuated with the importance he was trying to convey.

Rex listened, because of the love he had for his brother, even though the words were nonsense. The one thing that truly mattered to Rex was for Fives to be able to breathe. For each breath to not be his last. For his lungs to continue inflating and deflating, for his heart to keep beating, for his eyes to keep their focus on Rex’s face.

“I-I never meant to…”

Fives reached for him, grasping at the air before Rex’s pauldron in an effort to draw him closer, and the captain leaned forward, gripping the back of his brother’s neck to hold him upright, lending what strength he could.

“I only wanted to do my duty,” Fives confessed against Rex’s ear, the words almost too soft to catch.

It wasn’t the words themselves that made Rex’s face crumple with agony; it was the resignation that colored them. They were weighed with the burden of a man who knew his best efforts had wrought nothing, and his actions had ended in failure total and absolute.

And it was at that moment that Rex felt something begin to give. The weakening had started when he’d met Cut Lawquane and his family. It had begun to crack under the terror of Krell, had gathered various fractures along the way as he continued to question his role in the war. But this was the moment he knew he would never come back from. This was the loss that would break him.

Fives began to tremble, his breath hitching and uneven now, and Rex whispered, _“Brother…”_ as he attempted to fill that single word with all the emotions he couldn’t convey, didn’t know how to voice properly.

“Fives. Stay with me, Fives!”

The panic was in his throat and coiled in his chest as Fives’ strength drained from his limbs, his eyes drifting and unfocused as Rex held him upright.

No, not like this. _Not like this!_

“Fives!” Rex gently shook his brother, the edge of the abyss too close beneath his feet now, and he knew he was in danger of falling.

“The mission…” Fives stammered, his eyes roaming everywhere but Rex’s face. “The nightmares… they’re…” Amber eyes found his again, identical and yet different in all the ways that mattered.

“…finally… over…”

And then the golden eyes were gone, hidden behind lids that refused to stay open as his head tilted away, drawn by gravity and held up only by Rex’s tightening grip.

Rex couldn’t catch his breath. Couldn’t find the air. Darkness was closing around him, extinguishing the light, the hope that this couldn’t be happening. Couldn’t possibly be real.

“Fives?” _Disbelief._

“No, Fives.” _Pleading._

“Come on, Fives, don’t go.” _Begging._

“Stay with me, _stay with me._ Fives! Fives! Don’t go!” _Anger._

“No. Oh, no…” Acceptance?

_Hell_ no.

“Don’t you do it, Fives. Don’t you _dare_ leave. Do you hear me, Fives? _Fight, damn you! Get up and fight, soldier!”_

Hands now, pulling him away, forcing him to release the hold on his brother as Rex had begun to shake him, roaring at him to fight, to _survive_ , because the alternative was… was…

“That’s enough, Rex.”

A surprisingly gentle voice. The… General?

Somehow Rex had found himself in a half-embrace, half-struggle with the Jedi. Rex refused to look anywhere but at the figure on the ground, and he howled in rage as phantoms shrouded in white descended on his still form.

_“Get away from him!”_ Rex’s anguish was almost an identical marker to Fives’ own earlier cry, full of desperation and maddening fear.

“Rex, _stop!”_ Skywalker barked, arms squeezing around Rex’s shoulders to keep him from lunging at the ghostly intruders. “It’s only the medics!”

Rex ceased his struggles, blinking in confusion, his vision coming into focus as he recognized the pale, clean smocks of Coruscant medics. Noticing for the first time the look of pity on his brothers’ identical features as they stared openly at the captain. The Coruscant Guard had removed their buckets at some point, but Rex didn’t care how big a fool he was making of himself.

As he stared at those red and white markings, he began to grow hot around the face. This was _their_ fault. Fives hadn’t been a threat until they had stormed in, guns blazing.

Where had they _come_ from? No one else had known their location. No one but Kix. How had this happened?

Now another of his brothers. Gone. Their names were bitter leaves on his tongue. A legion of them, too numerous to count, nothing left but memories and markers on a plaque.

And now, Domino Squad’s last surviving member—

“We have a pulse.”

Four words. Four simple words powerful enough to break the world.

Four words with the capacity to sap the strength from Rex’s limbs, the captain held aloft above an endless sea by the arms still around him, but even so. Rex was fairly sure he was drowning.

What else could explain his sudden inability to breathe?


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rex goes with the medical transport and negotiates with Anakin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I'm posting this for the SWBB, you'll get a whooping total of 20k words in one day! The rest of the fic will be posted over the course of the month, so make sure to stop by frequently for updates!

Fickle time had decided to quicken its pace, now too fast and sharp, voices overlapping as colors bled together.

Rex’s senses snapped back with a soldier’s disciple, his focus honed to a sharp point as the medics lifted Fives’ still form onto a hover-gurney. Skywalker relinquished his hold after Rex muttered, “I’m fine, sir. I’m _fine_ ,” which was damn far from the truth but good enough for the moment.

The medics rushed the ARC trooper toward their awaiting emergency transport on the entrance platform. Rex stalked them through the warehouse, hot on their heels as he immediately followed onboard, refusing to break line of sight with his brother.

One of the medics, a tall woman with dark brown skin and shorn hair, placed her hand against the captain’s chestplate and stated firmly, “Medical personnel only. I’m sorry, sir.”

Every ounce of Rex’s discipline was called forward, containing the hot coil of frantic protectiveness, but only barely.

“You want me off this transport? You’ll have to bodily remove me, because I am _not_ going anywhere.”

Her frown became more pronounced, and she did not remove her hand until a tall figured joined the captain.

“It’s all right, Rex. We’re not going to be left behind,” Skywalker proclaimed confidently, as if the world hadn’t suddenly flipped on its head.

“Says who?” the woman asked bluntly, the doors to the transport shutting behind the Jedi. The medics who were tending to Fives weren’t wasting any time on proper passenger protocol, and that was a blessing at least.

Skywalker turned his icy blue gaze on the woman. “Says this trooper’s commander and a Knight of the Jedi Order. We are tasked with bringing in this man. _Alive._ So if you don’t want to interfere with Council business, you will allow us to accompany him and do our jobs.”

The woman stiffened at that, her eyes sliding across Rex in obvious disapproval, and she said, “Fine. So long as you allow me to do mine.”

“Fair enough,” Skywalker responded evenly, his tone diplomatic once he had won the argument.

She chose to wisely ignore this as she turned back to the team of medics who moved with precise and expert movements to stabilize their patient.

The image of Fives, unnaturally helpless and vulnerable as the team removed his chest armor, sobered Rex quickly from the haze of thick fear that was threatening at the borders of his consciousness. His brother was fighting to stay alive, and Rex could do no less from the other side.

“Where are they taking him?” Rex managed to find his voice as he looked up into the face of his Jedi, arm automatically trying to cradle the helmet that wasn’t there against his side. Had he left it back at the warehouse? No, it was still in the gunship. Or was it? Everything from before was a frustrating blur in Rex’s mind.

“The Republic Medical Facility, from the looks of it,” Skywalker responded, his eyes fixated on the machinery and various tubes being attached to Fives’ skin and airways by the medics.

Rex blinked, thinking back to the way the woman had addressed him as _sir_. It was an odd way for a civilian to address a soldier—even one as obvious as the captain. Then Rex remembered the sigil on her smock—Grand Republic Medical Facility.

The same facility Fives’ had fled.

“But… but they can’t,” Rex stammered, cold fear gripping him as his skin crawled. Not the place where Fives had completely lost himself to his sickness. Not where he had attempted to assassinate the highest leader of the Republic. Not there.

Skywalker raised an eyebrow as he brought his piercing gaze to bear on his captain.

“Y-you said you would bring him to the Jedi Temple, sir,” Rex stammered by way of explanation. “Surely, they would be just as well-equipped to—”

“That was before Fives tried, once _again,_ to murder someone who only wanted to help him,” Skywalker explained with narrowed eyes, his arms crossing his broad chest. “Before it became clear to me how dangerously unhinged he truly has become.”

Rex didn’t respond, his eyes drawn back to his brother, feeling as helpless as if he were trapped within another ray shield.

“Whatever illness Tup contracted, Fives has it as well. We have no idea how contagious this thing is. He should have remained on Kamino for further examination, not come to Coruscant where something like _this_ could happen.”

Skywalker gestured toward Fives, and Rex couldn’t argue with that logic, and yet… he found he did.

He didn’t dislike the cloners, per se, but they had never been friendly beings. He wasn’t so naïve as to believe they viewed Rex as little more than a successful example of their hard labor. At least on Coruscant, Fives would have been treated as a person, not a flaw to a highly-ordered system.

“They’ll probably transport him back to Tipoca City. He needs to be cared for by those who understand clones best, especially if he has a chance of surviving that chest wound.”

Back… to Kamino?

Rex’s icy veins melted in an instant, fire heating his chest as he turned on his commander, hand gripping the Jedi’s forearm before he could fully comprehend what he was doing.

“You _can’t_ ,” Rex objected in a heated tone he had never used in his life toward the general. He’d never needed to until that moment. “You gave him your word, as a Jedi. You _promised_ you would see this through, not ship him off to be poked and prodded by the cloners!”

Skywalker stared at him for a long moment, his eyes cold in a way that chilled Rex to his core. He’d seen that look before, but this was the first time it had been directed his way.

The Jedi slowly lowered his gaze to the offending hand still on his arm.

“Remove your hand, soldier.”

The frostbitten command caused Rex’s spine to snap straight, his shoulders pulled back as he snatched his hand from the borderline impetuous contact.

Skywalker sighed and rubbed a hand through his wavy, dark blond hair, expression smoothing from the flinty one it had been a moment ago into something more worn and tired. “I know what I said. But circumstances change, and I think this is the best course of action for Fives. We don’t know what the hell is going on with him, and he just took a blaster shot to the _chest_. If anybody can fix him up, it’s the Kaminoans.”

The captain swallowed, glancing sideways toward his fallen brother. He knew he shouldn’t press the issue—wouldn’t have if the situation wasn’t so important. But he had to try. Fives had trusted him because he knew Rex would fight bloody on his behalf. They had been through too much together for anything less.

“Sir, with all due respect, I believe this is the wrong move,” Rex began, keeping his tone soft and even, burying the frustration and helplessness that churned within. “Something is deeply wrong with Fives, yes, but we already knew that. We knew he attacked the Chancellor. He’s suffering due to an unknown variable, and if the Kaminoans couldn’t identify the problem then, what new information indicates they could change the outcome now?”

The General appeared thoughtful at that, his clear blue gaze turning to Fives, and when he didn’t have an answer forthcoming, Rex continued.

“I believe that _Fives_ believes he’s in danger from within the Republic. The Jedi are the closest thing to a neutral party in this situation, and they are equipped to discover the source of the problem in ways typical medical intervention cannot.”

Skywalker raised his brows only a few millimeters, but Rex could see it: he was slowly convincing the General with cold, hard logic, even though that was not Rex’s true motivation for not wanting to return to the medical facility.

Rex didn’t believe for one moment that there was a massive plot engineered to turn the clones into slaves for some dastardly evil. But that bad feeling hadn’t left him, and something didn’t feel right about the whole sticky mess. Fives had been terrified, yes, but rational enough to convey his terror—to force them into a position where they had to listen. He had had no intention of hurting the General or the captain. All he had wanted was for them to hear his cry for help, and he had been robbed of that.

But he hadn’t lied when he said he didn’t want the Kaminoans to lay a hand on his brother. The thought brought an involuntary shiver to his spine.

“And now with this injury, time will be of the essence and the Temple is much closer than Kamino,” Rex pointed out when the General still hadn’t said a word. True, the Republic Medical Facility would have all the medical equipment necessary to help Fives, but Rex needed to think strategically. He had to think further than just getting Fives to the nearest bacta tank.

He could see Skywalker was close to agreeing with the captain, so Rex gave him a needed push with the perspective that was his and his alone.

“I don’t… I _can’t_ lose another brother. Not like this. _Please,_ sir.”

The permafrost around Skywalker’s presence seemed to finally dissolve as his eyes crinkled at the corners, placing a warm hand on the captain’s shoulder. It was hard to imagine the chill that had been there before, and Rex would have questioned its existence if he hadn’t seen it with more increasing frequency over the past few weeks.

“All right, Rex. It _is_ what the Council originally requested, and the Halls of Healing should be as well equipped to deal with Fives’ injuries as any Republic clinic. Jedi take their fair share of blaster shots, believe it or not,” Skywalker added with a hint of his trademark charm, causing Rex to feel the hint of his tightened muscles beginning to loosen.

“Thank you, sir,” Rex responded gratefully, unable to return with any sort of levity, but the tension at the corners of his mouth seemed to lessen.

The Jedi General turned from Rex and walked past the medics as they tended to their charge, casting a lingering glance on Fives’ lax expression before continuing to the cockpit to instruct the pilot of their new destination.

Rex leapt at the opportunity to be beside his brother now that he had done all he could for him. The woman who initially spoke to him once again put a hand on his chestplate, pushing him back once she saw what he intended to do out of the corner of her eye.

“Sir, we need room to work,” she stated firmly, her eyes boring into his in a way that indicated she had dealt with this kind of behavior on more than one occasion, most likely from concerned friends and family members. Maybe even from other brothers. Troopers had their own medical stations and clinics, but the Grand Republic Medical Facility was prestigious enough that it was possible Fives was not the first clone to be brought there for examination.

“Then tell me where I may stand so I won’t be a hindrance,” Rex replied, unyielding in his gaze but more than willing to reach a compromise, especially if his presence would endanger Fives’ life in any way.

Her eyes softened and she removed her hand from his armor and indicated a front corner of the ship, which was behind the partition separating the main body of the craft from the cockpit, slightly raised enough to give him a view of their work without any interference.

“Thank you,” Rex responded sincerely, and her expression softened further. “Please… do everything you can for him,” the captain added, feeling that familiar squeeze over his heart at the thought of Fives.

“I always do. Your brother is in good hands,” the medic responded, a hint of a smile tugging the corner of her mouth as she basically confirmed her encounter with troopers before. And then she was gone, returning to Fives’ side to consult with the medics on either side of her.

Rex blew out the breath he had been holding, walking slowly to the small space the medic had indicated, crossing his arms over his chest, almost hugging himself as he watched them work.

Fives had been completely stripped to the waist, his black bodysuit removed in pieces, cut apart to reveal the charred hole underneath. The wound was covered now, thankfully, but Rex had glimpsed its egregious shape during his argument with Skywalker. A bacta patch was centered across his chest, but Rex knew that wouldn’t be enough if his heart had been damaged. Rex was familiar with this type of wound; had received an almost identical one on Saleucami. Straight through the chest with a sniper blast. He was still breathing only because the commando droid had been a poor shot and Kix had been a stellar medic.

A breathing mask covered Fives’ mouth and nose, and he looked far too pale, his ordinarily brown skin faded to a sickly shade. The shot itself wouldn’t bleed externally, cauterized as it was by the blaster bolt. But there was a great risk of internal bleeding, and from the pallid state of his skin, Rex feared this was the case.

The captain bit down hard on the rising panic in his chest, as well as the inside of his cheek. Giving in to the fear and entertaining worst case scenarios at this point was futile at best, paralyzing at worst. He could succumb to the horrors of what had happened later—for now, Fives needed him to remain vigilante and fight for him in any way he could.

“—I don’t care what your damn orders are, you are to belay them—Yes, this _is_ Jedi business, and you can take it up with the Council if you think you know better than they do. Yes, the _Jedi_ Council. What is your name, trooper _?”_

A ghost of a smile threatened to form on his lips as Rex heard the snippets of conversation from the cockpit, punctuated by Skywalker’s irritated injections as he argued with an unheard voice over a comm. By the sound of it, he was winning the argument, as the General often did.

Rex’s second largest fear was not some obtuse clone officer; it was if the Chancellor himself got involved. He had, after all, been assaulted by the ARC trooper, and if the Chancellor truly pressed the issue, Rex suspected Skywalker would cave and relinquish Fives into the Republic’s custody.

The captain prayed they would make it to their destination long before then, as he feared even the Jedi would be unable to subvert a direct order by the powerful man.

None of that would matter if Fives couldn’t hold on. That was what Rex feared the most.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fives has another close call and Rex has trouble coping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warnings: Medical stuff, dissociation, panic

Rex’s greatest fear was nearly realized as the spires of the Jedi Temple touched the horizon in the viewport above the gurney.

“His blood pressure is dropping,” claimed one of the medics in a voice that was much too calm, goggles fixed on the data feed next to Fives head.

“Vitals,” said the woman who had attempted to stop Rex earlier, clearly the lead medic, her own set of examination googles attached to her face.

“Eighty-over-fifty and falling.”

“We’ve got arrhythmia. Possible cardiac tamponade.”

“Give him two doses of inotropes and prep for drainage.”

“What’s going on?” Skywalker inquired from Rex’s right side, but the captain didn’t move. Didn’t respond. He was frozen again, oddly numb as he watched the scene before him. So far removed that he didn’t even feel the hand on his shoulder until it squeezed in response to the emergency unfolding before them.

“Oh, no,” the General breathed, watching the medics as they worked over Fives’ pale form. “We’re almost to the Temple, Rex. Just a little further and—hey!”

Skywalker barked out a surprise as he grabbed Rex’s arm; the captain’s feet carried him of their own volition as the lead medic removed Fives’ bacta bandage and held a heated laser-scalpel above his sternum. All Rex could see was that black hole just to the left of his brother’s chest, and the glowing bladed instrument poised above it.

“Damnit, Rex— _Rex!”_

A steely barrier was placed around his throat, yanking him backwards as it curled around his neck; Rex’s right arm pulled behind his back as he realized the General’s arm had trapped him in a headlock.

“Snap out of it, Rex! I _don’t_ want to hurt you!”

“Behave yourselves or you will be removed, midflight or not,” the lead medic responded evenly, never taking her eyes off the task at hand. “I will not warn you again.”

Rex only stopped struggling when he saw the blade dip down into his brother’s skin, cauterizing the wound as it made a thin, perfect slice just below the blaster wound.

The captain deflated, his vision oddly blurred as he watched the blood began to spill from the opening, sourced from the damage within rather than the slit in his chest.

The lead medic guided a tapered tube into the small incision, the point of the device disappearing into Fives’ chest as it began to emit a humming tone.

“How are we looking?” the woman inquired coolly while her hands remained steady, slowly guiding the instrument inside of Fives’ ribcage, the light from her headwear bright on his flesh.

“Blood pressure and heart rate holding steady.”

“Good. He’s a fighter, this one,” the lead medic commented, sounding almost impressed with her patient. “I’ve cleared most of the fluid from the pericardium and am sealing the wound… now.”

The tubing had been removed and the medic now had a fiercely glowing light slowly tracing down the incision in Fives’ sternum, leaving only a faint line in its place.

“Doctor Zhia! BP at fifty-over-thirty!”

“He’s going into cardiac arrest.”

“What? _Why?”_ the lead medic demanded.

“Cross-reaction with the inotropes. There’s… an error. It’s not in the medical index, whatever is causing this.”

The woman, Doctor Zhia, swore under her breath in non-Basic, turned on her heels, and advanced on the captain and general. Rex nearly recoiled at the storm in her eyes.

“What did he take?”

“Excuse me?” Skywalker responded, automatically bristling at the accusation in her voice.

“Psychostimulants? Depressants? A mixture of the two?”

Skywalker blinked, his frown indicating he had no idea what the doctor was referring to.

“He’s been drugged?” Rex breathlessly asked, his wide eyes roaming to where Fives’ lay, his heartrate stuttering on the monitors.

“Or he took them himself,” the doctor responded with a frown, and before Skywalker could bristle at her remark, she said, “I need to know what he took, _now_ , or else we may kill him on accident.”

That shut Skywalker down in a heartbeat, and he helplessly spread his hands as he said, “I honestly don’t know. We had no idea he had taken something. Honestly.”

“Then give me descriptions of his behavior. Was he erratic? Agitated? Lethargic? Disoriented?” the doctor pressed.

“Agitated, yes,” Rex confirmed, his tongue feeling strangely thick in his mouth. The doctor turned her piercing on him, listening intently as Rex listed off his observations with a calmness he didn’t feel. “Paranoid. Volatile. He seemed physically off balance, as well.”

“Thank you. That’s exactly what I needed to know,” she replied curtly before turning back to Fives, her jaw tight to indicate she had a trajectory to follow.

The idea that Fives had somehow spiced himself up since his escape seemed… unlikely. It made no sense. Irrational or not, Fives’ had a goal in mind, and that objective would have been made more difficult with the introduction of chems.

That left only one other possibility.

The question was abandoned as the observation monitor’s pattern devolved into a monotone beep, destroying all semblance of thought in the captain’s mind. There was nothing, nothing that existed in the galaxy aside from that horrible, high-pitched, whining death peal.

Rex had never felt such a strong disassociation from physical reality, but he felt he was dangerously untethered to the transport’s floor, gravity loosening its grip on him as the whine continued on and on, medics hunched over Fives’ body as if they were carrion birds waiting for a feast.

And then there was a blip. Silence. Then another. Fives wasn’t done fighting yet.

The side of the transport slid open as the team of medics rushed the hover-gurney and all of its hardware out the door. Rex hadn’t even realized they had landed, and he watched numbly as two Jedi healers met the team right outside, four masked Temple Guards surrounding them in a circle as they rushed toward the grand building from the landing platform.

The captain wanted to move, wanted to chase after them, but the stagnant tone of his brother’s fading life had seemed to short-circuit him as easily as if he were a malfunctioning droid. The familiar weight of a hand on his shoulder felt stifling and suffocating rather than comforting.

“I’d instruct you to return to the barracks, but I’m going to take a guess and say you’ll disobey that order,” Skywalker commented as he gently guided Rex from the medical transport, seeming to sense that the captain couldn’t function enough yet to move on his own.

“That would be correct, sir,” Rex said faintly, and Skywalker patted his pauldron in a show of comradery that felt empty and hollow.

The captain wondered, for the first time, if he was broken. If so, he would have to apologize to Kix for chiding him when he suggested Tup’s behavior was psychological, brushing off the medic’s diagnosis because clones just weren’t _made_ that way.

Maybe they weren’t. Maybe Rex was compromised. Just as Tup and Fives had been.

“C’mon,” Skywalker gently instructed while Rex passively obeyed, walking beside his commander as he felt again for the absent helmet resting against his hip. He had definitely left it on the police gunship, and he hoped whoever collected the transport would not toss away his bucket, mistaking it for trash as scuffed and altered as it was.

They traversed the short pathway from the emergency landing platform to the outer entrance of the Temple itself, and the doors whooshed open before them, the sound of the city-planet behind them immediately silenced as the entryway closed behind them.

The captain and general were invited to wait in the spacious lobby by the healer who greeted them; a tall, blond man who glanced at Rex with poorly-concealed curiosity. Clones were probably a rare sight within the Jedi sanctum.

Skywalker agreed to wait, comming General Kenobi to update them on their arrival. Rex had the feeling that his commander would have gone in search of his old master, or perhaps would have gone to update the Council if Rex hadn’t been present. He probably feared Rex might do something foolish like barge into the triage center in search of Fives. Or maybe toss himself off the landing platform, considering how he’d nearly had a nervous breakdown in the warehouse.

Rex couldn’t bring himself to tell his general that he would be fine without him. He wasn’t entirely sure it would be the truth.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fives is transferred to the bacta bay and Rex can breathe a little easier.

The captain came face-to-face with the lead medic and her team as they returned from within the Halls of Healing a half hour after their arrival.

“Master Jedi,” Doctor Zhia addressed Skywalker with a more polite tone than she had used throughout the short flight. Rex immediately resisted the panic that bubbled in his chest at her appearance.

“How is he?” Rex interjected before Skywalker could speak, earning him a slightly irritated look.

“The trooper was turned over to Jedi healers once we stabilized him. He’s within the operating theater now, and soon as he is able, he’ll be placed in a bacta tank.”

“Thank you, Doctor Zhia. We appreciate you working with us on this sensitive matter,” Skywalker asserted with a nod while Rex tried to just _breathe_. “I’m sure the Council will extend its gratitude as well.”

“Yes, thank you. For… for everything,” the captain added with only a mild fumble, once he found his voice and his manners. The doctor gave him a curt nod, but her eyes remained soft around the edges.

“I hope your brother makes a swift and full recovery,” the doctor responded with more warmth than she had shown thus far, giving the captain and Jedi a nod as she followed her medical team out the entranceway.

The words brought a twinge of anxiety to Rex’s mind, but they also carried something else with them. Was it too soon to hope? Having once received an injury very similar in nature, Rex understood how quickly things could all slide downhill. They were, by no stretch of the imagination, out of the asteroid field.

Skywalker eventually excused himself, commenting with an apologetic wince how he really did need to debrief the Council, and Rex assured him it was fine. He was fine. His Jedi had clapped a hand on his shoulder before departing, and Rex continued his pacing.

Either the Jedi sitting at the front terminal had grown tired of the captain’s restless movements, or he took pity on the trooper, because he eventually allowed Rex to take a seat in the private waiting room meant for the surgical bay. The viewing window was opaque, to Rex’s vexation, but he did feel better knowing Fives was somewhere in the next room.

Rex stood vigilance outside of the surgical bay for what felt like hours without word of Fives’ condition. When he wasn’t standing stock-still, head tilted listening for any sound coming from the room, he was endlessly pacing. Restless, caged, and far more agitated than was appropriate for a trooper of his rank.

And he could have cared less, even if there was anyone around to pass judgement on his chosen method of coping while he waited. And waited. A lifetime of waiting, pacing back and forth along sea-green floors and soft blue walls. Nothing seemed to exist before Fives had disappeared within the Jedi’s sanctum. At least, that’s what it felt like to Rex.

The sun was already beginning to set according to the chrono on his comlink. Skywalker and Rex had found the ARC trooper in the early hours of the morning before dawn had broken over the jagged Coruscanti skyline. It was difficult to believe so much had happened within the span of a single rotation.

 _Finally_ the door to the surgical bay parted with a gentle whoosh and Doctor Rig Nema stepped through with a graceful swirl of her robes, appearing careworn by her appearance. Her yellow skin seemed paler than the shade she had been earlier as she had greeted Skywalker and Rex in the forward waiting room, standing in stark relief against her grey medical robes.

“Doctor? How is he?”

Rex was on her in a heartbeat, attempting to see past her shoulder to the room beyond, but what little he glimpsed was unhelpful as the room stood empty and sterile. The Jedi gave him a weary smile that was patient with her understanding at his impatience.

“The ARC trooper has been prepped and placed into a bacta tank. The reconstructive surgery was successful, and his left pulmonary artery was repaired enough to allow submergence without complication.”

“So he’s… he’ll be all right?” Rex asked, not quite yet allowing himself to hope.

The Jedi doctor gave him a small bow of her head and responded, “I believe he will. The greatest danger has passed, and he should respond well to the bacta treatments.”

The relief hit Rex so completely and unexpectedly that he nearly reeled backwards, but he had enough composure left that he merely swayed slightly.

The Jedi focused her golden eyes on him with sharp concern. “You should return to the barracks, Captain. There is nothing more you can do. And pardon my bluntness, but you appear dead on your feet.”

“Thank you, Doctor, but I’m fine.”

Rex was sure he was setting some kind of record for how many times he could lie to a Jedi in one day. But it was a harmless deceit, one that affected no one but himself.

The doctor gave him another nod and said, “As you will, Captain. Master Skywalker has already informed me that you may stay the night, and we have enough spare beds that you may use one.”

Rex felt an intense way of gratitude towards his commander. How many troopers could say their Jedi generals gave such allowances while they were in the midst of a galactic war?

“If it’s not any trouble,” the captain added.

“I assure you, it will not be. And if it is, you’ll be the first to know.”

Before she could turn to leave, Rex blurted, “May… may I see him?” When she turned her head to examine him more closely, he stammered, “I know he won’t be conscious, but I would like to… to check on him, regardless.”

Her golden expression softened as the doctor said, “On two conditions.”

“Yes, sir?”

“Take care of your own needs first. Now,” she held up a hand before he could argue, “you’re no good to your fellow trooper if you drive yourself into the ground with fatigue. Get some rest, or at the very least, ask one of the droids to fetch you a meal from one of the refectories. I am afraid I will have to ask you to remain within the Halls of Healing during your visit.”

Rex found he was oddly irritated by the statement. Not her suggestion that he take measures to remain a functional person, but rather that Fives was just another soldier.

But it wasn’t the Jedi’s fault. She didn’t know, couldn’t understand. She wasn’t a brother. Had no idea the hells they had traveled together.

“I will do that,” Rex promised vaguely. He didn’t plan on asking a droid for food – he had enough ration bars to last him a while, and he had a feeling once he saw Fives again, he wouldn’t be going anywhere. Even for sleep. If push came to shove, he could sleep on the floor if he needed to. After all, she hadn’t specified _how_ he fulfilled these necessities.

“Good. Come, Captain.”

The doctor led him down the softly lit corridor to a wide hall with a vaulted, golden-brown ceiling, and crossed the marbled walkway to another part of the medical facility, returning to the same soothing aquamarine color scheme.

Down to the end of another corridor the Jedi led him, and Rex thought he was prepared for the sight before him when they entered the bacta bay. But he was wrong.

It was a spacious circular room, another circle within it formed by bluish, glowing bacta tanks. A thick, clear tube was attached to the upper lid, while the base of each tank was fit into a grey holder that sat flush with the floor.

Not many of the fluorescent tanks were filled, but even if the room had been fully occupied, Rex’s eyes would have found their target without failure.

_Fives._

He was suspended in the viscous, glowing liquid, half-curled with an oxygen mask covering the lower half of his face. He was nude except for a pair of skintight black skivvies, his skin pale and almost ghastly in the luminescent light, the “5” tattoo on his temple contrasted with the rest of his shaved head. The only other blemish along his scalp was a thin, pale line on the right side of his head—a testament to the self-prescribed chip removal Skywalker had briefed him about.

The captain was strongly reminded of the embryonic growth chambers on Kamino as he stared at the tank before him in open wonder, his feet somehow carrying him forward as his mind stalled from the absolute helplessness of his brother. He listened as the doctor spoke, but he did not turn to look at her.

“ARC Trooper Fives has been fully submerged and sedated within the bacta. The healing process has already begun. It is merely a matter of watching and waiting at this point, so do not feel obligated to remain within the Halls of Healing if you have other—”

“When will he be awake?” Rex asked, interrupting before she could suggest that his presence wasn’t required. It damn well _was_ required, at least in his mind.

“My best estimate: seven to eight days,” the doctor responded. Rex turned to look at her, eyebrows raised.

“Over a week? That long?”

“It was a grievous wound,” Doctor Nema responded, examining and checking the various monitors as Rex finally dragged his eyes away from the bacta tank. “He must remain submerged for at least seven days. The damage we repaired was a temporary measure, at best. I will be honest with you, Captain.”

Pinning him with her golden eyes, she said, “By all accounts, it is a wonder this trooper survived his injury. At this junction, his health is extremely delicate and may take a turn for the worse. I need your agreement that if an emergency should arise, you will immediately vacate the room and let us tend to him. No questions asked, no arguments given.

“ _That_ is my second condition.”

“Of course, Doctor,” Rex responded, feeling the blood drain from his face at her sobering words. Her tone was familiar, recalling Doctor Zhia to mind, and he wondered if all healers, whether Jedi or otherwise, had the same take-no-shit attitude.

Rex remembered Kix had pulled rank on him after the captain had taken a sniper bolt to the chest, ordering him to rest as if he were some uppity rookie who insisted being first on the battlefield and the last to leave. Though considering Rex’s eagerness in those earlier days of the war, that wasn’t an entirely undeserved description.

Yes, Rex decided. He didn’t know what it was, but all doctors had a streak of fierceness that could rival any battle-scarred veteran.

“I will hold you to it, Captain,” the Jedi said with the hint of a good-natured smile. “Typically, we do not allow visitors to remain overnight, but these are… unusual circumstances.”

“And I am most appreciative,” Rex sincerely stated, turning back to his brother, floating in the lightly glowing liquid. Unable to tear his eyes away.

“The medical droids, as well as my assistants, will be monitoring his progress for the remainder of the night.” He felt a hand on his pauldron, reluctantly drawing his attention back as Doctor Nema gave him a small smile. “I would ask if wish to be shown the spare beds now rather than later, but I have a feeling you would prefer to stay.”

The captain gave her a slow nod, unable to speak through the unexpected, obnoxious lump in his throat.

“Take your time, Captain. Simply ask one of the healers to show you where you may rest, when you are ready.”

“Thank you,” Rex managed to speak this time, and the Jedi healer gave him a gracious nod and withdrew her hand, giving one last glance toward the suspended trooper. “One cannot know the future for certain, but I believe his strength will carry him through this trial. You must have faith.”

“Master Jedi.” Rex turned to look at the woman beside him, her eyebrows raised. “What will happen to him once… once he’s awake?”

“That is for the Council to decide.”

Rex didn’t think he imagined the troubled shadow in her eyes.

But when the captain had no forthcoming response, she gave him a last bow and exited the room, leaving Rex alone with his thoughts, his fallen brother, and the mechanical hum of the luminescent chambers.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rex reflects on the strange circumstances of Fives' shooting.

Captain Rex had been correct. Once he entered the vast chamber referred to as the “bacta bay,” all rational thought fled his mind as he was wholly consumed with the shocking sight of his brother. For the first few minutes, he seemed capable of doing little more than stare at the figure suspended within the illuminated chamber of bacta.

Seeing the ARC trooper without his modified armor, dual pauldrons and protective kama, wearing nothing but skivvies while in such a vulnerable position was jarring to say the least. His breathing was slow, even and timed, bubbles escaping from the respirator latched to the lower portion of his face. Rex had no idea if he was breathing on his own, or if the machines gave him life.

There was a hell of a lot Rex didn’t know at this point, and the Jedi were as tight-lipped as ever. He counted himself lucky that they had allowed him to stay within the Halls of Healing at all. It did little to assuage the captain’s anxiety as he counted off the unknown variables surrounding Fives’ breakdown.

The chemicals found within the trooper’s bloodstream. Fives attacking several troopers and medical staff during what _should_ have been a routine medical stay in Tipoca City. His violent, unpredictable behavior in the warehouse, not to mention what he had done at the Grand Republic Medical Facility. His insensible claims regarding a government-wide conspiracy, apparently orchestrated by the Chancellor himself (or not; Fives hadn’t exactly been clear on that point in the midst of his ranting).

Doctor Nema hadn’t mentioned a virus or any other infection, providing yet more questions instead of answers. Not that Rex could prod her with more inquiries, she had retired for the night and the assistants she had spoken of were absent. In fact, besides the odd medical droid that paused in their programmed path to log Fives’ vital signs, he had yet to see another Jedi, let alone the promised healers.

Even Skywalker was no longer present. Rex assumed he was giving his debriefing to the Council regarding the disaster at the warehouse, but he had yet to return.

The captain expelled a sigh, running a gloved hand over his shaved scalp while reminding himself that while Fives was his highest priority, the Jedi were still coordinating a galactic war. One renegade trooper _might_ not be the most prominent issue of their day.

Still. Hadn’t the damned Council given the order to find Fives to begin with? The least they could do was check on their quarry, vicariously if not personally.

Rex turned his attention back to his brother, distracting himself from the inane questions that circled his head like vulture droids. Now that he had a closer vantage point, he could see the scars that crisscrossed Fives’ illuminated skin.

A faded, irregular circle on his left shoulder from the bolt of a blaster while retaking Rishi Station. Rex remembered that well; Fives had been a fresh batcher and still as shiny as a protocol droid.

A long, thin line along his right thigh from the vibroblade of a commando droid. Rex hadn’t been there for that one, but he’d heard later how the blade had nearly cut to the bone.

A hint of faint pockmarks speckled along his upper arms from a close-range blast of shrapnel where his blacks had been unprotected by armor; a constant reminder of Echo’s death during their mission at the Citadel.

From the angle he was curled, Rex was unable to see the charred circle on Fives’ chest, and for that he was grateful. Rex had his own fair share of scars, they all did, but the captain did not wish to see that particular wound quite yet. Not when he was still reeling from the realization that Fives had nearly _died_ an hour or two prior.

Not on a battlefield. Not during one of the many dangerous missions Skywalker had tasked him with alongside Torrent Company. No, Fives had nearly been killed by another _brother_ after turning Rex’s own pistols on the Coruscant Guard Commander.

Rex could hardly blame Fox for pulling the trigger, not after Fives had tried to assassinate the Supreme Chancellor of the Galactic Republic.

In a sea of uncertainty, one thing was fundamentally true. Even ensconced inside a healing chamber, tucked safely within the Jedi Temple, the war to protect Fives from himself had only just begun.

If… If he lived long enough for it to form. Nothing was assured at this point, least of all the guarantee that his brother would survive his near-fatal encounter with Fox.

The worried watching soon gave way to restless pacing. Perhaps forgoing the distraction of his duties was a mistake. There wasn’t much he could do besides wait and fret, but the idea of going back to the barracks, of seeing Kix’s face after the information he had relayed nearly cost Fives his life? Of having to tell Jesse, who had grown closer to the ARC trooper after Umbara and losing Hardcase, that his brother was stark-raving mad?

And Tup. He couldn’t even begin to think about Tup. News of his death had blindsided them all, and Rex had barely the time to process before he had been summoned by Skywalker to assist in hunting down the rogue trooper. It was a nightmarish clusterfuck, and Fives’ conflicting information had done nothing to unravel the web of confusion.

No, Rex couldn’t look his brothers in the eye. Not yet. Not until he had some definitive good news for once.

The captain slowed his pacing until he came to a complete stop, eyes trailing across the room until he came to one of the main terminals used by the Jedi healers. A sudden urge took hold, one which was more suitable to the man in the bacta tank than the captain. Casting a furtive glance at the medical droids and determining they had no interest in him, the captain descended on the terminal closest to the wall, out of eyesight of the two large doorways leading into the bacta hall.

Rex didn’t bother to use the stout circular chair in front of the terminal, and pushed it aside as he stood in front of the glowing, angled monitor. He tapped the screen to bring it to life, but frowned as the screen prompted him for a bioscan. He palmed the flat surface and received a denial for his efforts.

Figures. Nothing was _that_ easy.

It wasn’t that Rex was deliberately trying to get his ass kicked out the door. He just needed to know what they had discovered about Fives’ condition. The promised assistants had not yet arrived, and while the last thing he wanted was for his presence to be a burden on the Jedi medics, he wasn’t entirely sure they would be honest with him. Not completely. The Jedi were too fond of their secrets, a fact that never truly concerned Rex until now.

Fives’ close-call was anything but typical, and the circumstances around his mental breakdown were disturbing. It left the captain feeling as if he were on shifting ground, the solid mass under his feet threatening to tip at a moment’s notice. Despite Doctor Nema’s assurances, Rex had this shadow of dread stalking his footsteps.

It made no sense. Fives was safely tucked away in a bacta tank in the middle of the Jedi Temple in the midst of the Republic Capital.

So why did the sense of dread curl around his neck like an unseen snake?

Rex took a deep breath, steading himself mentally and physically as he glanced back to the bacta tank. Fives was still suspended, totally unchanged as the bubbles floated away from his mask in steady bursts.

Rex knew his body had hit the point where he was filled with a frenzied exhaustion, and his mind wouldn’t stop reliving the events in the warehouse over and over. Fox advancing across the storage facility; pistol trained on Fives while he shouted his orders.

He knew the commander. He was a good man. He hadn’t pulled the trigger until Fives had left him with no other choice. Rex knew that, acknowledged it objectively, but he couldn’t erase the resentment he felt toward the Coruscant Guard commander. Stun blasts would have subdued Fives just as swiftly, if not more so. But they had gone straight for live heat.

Rex couldn’t say it was the first time this had happened. The shock troopers on base during Ahsoka’s escape had only switched their weapons to stun after Skywalker had ordered them, multiple times, to do so. Commander Fox had been running that mission as well.

The Coruscant Guard was a special division within the GAR in that they did not typically fight on the frontlines, and were in contact with the public in an enforcement capacity. Sometimes they would accompany diplomats, both Jedi and non-Jedi, on especially precarious missions, but more often than not they were stationed on Coruscant. In the case of the protests during the Jedi Temple hangar bombing, their role was in opposition of upset citizens.

Rex figured that lent a very different mindset to the shock troopers, not to mention they didn’t serve under the Jedi, but rather answered to the Senate and its Chancellor. Now that Rex thought about it, he would have guessed Fox would be closely guarding the Chancellor while Fives was at large, and instead he had tracked them to the sublevels.

Surely Fox knew the ARC trooper was sick and needed to be approached with extra care? Surely he would have had orders to bring their brother in alive as a priority?

The thoughts swirled around and around in Rex’s mind, and finally he sat heavily on one of the round stools near the wall. He needed a moment, just one, to control the anxiety that reared its ugly head when Rex needed it least.

Pressing his palm against his forehead, he leaned an elbow on the flat surface of the terminal and shut his eyes as he attempted to calm his breathing. He’d seen Skywalker and Tano meditate enough times to know the basics, and while he didn’t plan on sitting cross-legged on the floor, he could at least time his breathing to a steady rhythm.

With his eyes now closed, the hums and beeps and various other sounds of the room became the focus of his agitated mind. One noise in particular stood out; soft and rhythmic and steady, and Rex recognized it as his Fives’ mechanical breathing.

He timed his own breaths to the slow pace, almost without thinking, and the captain felt his rigid muscles loosen one by one as a deep calmness blanketed him.

A few more steady breaths and the sounds around him faded into nothing.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rex meets a potential ally in the war to protect Fives.

Rex took a deep breath and nearly groaned at the horrible crick in his neck. He opened his eyes with some difficulty, blinking with effort he became aware of his surroundings. With a brutal start he was hit with disorientation, and a small burst of adrenaline woke him up the rest of the way as he sat up so quickly he nearly toppled off the—

Stool?

In an unpleasant rush, he remembered where he was. And why. The why brought his head up as he sought the reassuring sights and sounds that indicated his brother still lived.

Fives was exactly where he should have been, releasing a steady pattern of bubbles from his breathing filter as he floated half-curled in the tank, but Rex had frozen.

A dark brown robed figure stood directly before Fives’ tank, unmoving, hood slightly angled back to indicate the wearer was staring at his brother.

Rex remained silent, caught off-guard by the sudden presence of what was clearly a Jedi. There was no way they could have missed the trooper slumped over the terminal, dead to the world, and they had chosen to leave him be, which made him mortified with embarrassment.

“I sensed your exhaustion and thought it best to let you sleep.”

The hood was drawn back as the Jedi turned toward him, giving Rex a clear view at the blond strands of thick, wavy hair, the brown patterned fur, and the strange feral eyes of a Cathar.

“General Linnsho.”

Rex sounded more surprised than he ought to, belatedly remembering that she volunteered in the Halls of Healing. He just hadn’t expected to see General Kenobi’s former Padawan here, standing over his brother.

“Uh, sorry, sir. I hadn’t expected to see you here,” he said, stumbling over his words.

Linnsho’s elongated ears lowered in an expression he wasn’t sure how to interpret, though he would go out on a limb and say it wasn’t one of joy.

“I was concerned for the trooper’s condition and wanted to check on him personally.”

“Is Fives all right?” he rushed to ask, more worried about his brother than speaking so informally to a superior officer.

The Jedi seemed to ponder the question and turned her head to stare up at the tank. “He’s stable and tolerating the bacta treatment so far. Master Nema is confident he will make a full recovery if all goes well within the next twenty-four hours.”

Rex felt some of the tension loosen from his shoulders. Fives was going to be okay. He was a fighter in all aspects of life, and he would win this battle too. He _had_ to.

“Any news on the drug the Coruscant medics found in his blood?”

His question was met with silence, forcing Rex’s attention back to the Jedi. She seemed apprehensive, which was odd. Rex didn’t know Jedi _got_ apprehensive.

“I’m unable able to share that information with you. I’m sorry,” she added upon seeing Rex’s unhappy frown.

“I’m his commanding officer,” he explained with a patient but stern tone he usually reserved for stubborn clones, generally of the shiny variety.

“Regardless, I haven’t been given permission by Master Nema to discuss his medical care with anyone outside of the Medical Corps.”

The captain folded his arms across his chest as he fixed her with a hard look.

“No, _not_ regardless. I am responsible for this trooper’s care, as is General Skywalker.”

“Then he shall have to contact Master Nema to establish proper chain of custody.”

Rex blinked. _Chain of custody?_

“What are you talking about? Fives is not some piece of evidence; he’s a decorated member of the 501st.”

“Yes, I know.” Linnsho’s tone was not confrontational despite her unyielding words. Rather, she sounded tired. “I’m not trying to be difficult, Captain. But the doctor made it clear that this is… a delicate matter. She does not tolerate any deviancy.”

Rex couldn’t exactly blame the Jedi for following standard operating procedures, but he absolutely was responsible for Fives’ welfare and he lacked the information he needed to help prepare for whatever was coming next.

“Is there anything you _can_ tell me?” Rex asked. He didn’t mean to sound petulant, but he hadn’t expected to be faced with this hurdle.

“Only what I have stated so far.” Linnsho watched him with an expression he couldn’t decipher, and he really wished he knew more about Cathar body language.

But he hadn’t given up yet. It was time for a change in tactics.

“So… you can’t tell me why he was acting so irrationally? Why he would turn a weapon on one of his own brothers?”

She didn’t respond immediately, though her eyes slightly widened in… curiosity? Surprise?

“Doctor Nema _did_ tell you what happened in the warehouse, didn’t she?” Rex pressed. “And how before that, Fives attempted to assassinate the Chancellor?”

Her eyes were definitively rounder, growing in width with each word.

“Master Nema told me of the nature of his injuries, but not how this trooper got them.” By her tone, she clearly wanted to know more.

Rex suspected he had a chance to get through to this Jedi. She was General Kenobi’s former Padawan, after all, and he was known for… unorthodox maneuvers on the battlefield.

The only way to know was to test his luck.

“There was an… incident during our last mission with another trooper,” Rex said. “He snapped during a battle. Turned his blaster on General Tiplar and executed her without warning or explanation.”

Her lips parted as if to speak, but she said nothing, her expression completely still. Rex suspected that what he was saying might be classified information, but if it would help Fives, he would deal with the consequences later.

“Our medic couldn’t identify the cause of his violent behavior, and one of our Jedi generals indicated the Separatists may have been developing an illness that would affect only clones. The clone was sent to Kamino.”

Rex rubbed the back of his neck as he added, “The Separatists intercepted his ship. Fives, General Skywalker and I were able to able to intercede and retrieve him, but… it further supported the theory that the enemy had found a way to make us sick, and they didn’t want us to discover how.”

The Jedi never took her eyes from the captain, brows slightly creased in what could be interpreted as concerned focus, and he took this as a good sign.

“Once we arrived in Tipoca City, Fives was also quarantined, and…” Rex sighed, trying to gather his thoughts as best he could. He still didn’t quite understand everything that had happened after that point, even after Skywalker had explained it as they traveled by gunship to the warehouse to the rendezvous with his renegade brother.

“We clones have some type of inhibitor chip in our brain tissue. Tup’s chip apparently had been corrupted somehow. They said that’s why he turned on the general, he wasn’t thinking straight.”

Rex had forgotten the Cathar were a predator species, and he could definitely understand that now that one had its laser-like focus trained on him.

“Tup died soon after, and it must have caused Fives to snap. He attacked the doctors and the security team before he could be given a final examination. He then chose to remove his own chip.”

Rex took another breath before adding, “He was brought to Coruscant after he agreed to be examined, because there _was_ evidence Tup’s chip had malfunctioned.”

Linnsho crossed her arms as she glanced sideways at the suspended ARC trooper. “I’m sorry, Captain, but… I’m confused. I thought the ARC trooper had contracted a contagion. How are these chips involved?”

Rex gave a helpless shrug. “It sounded like they thought a virus had been responsible for corrupting them. We still don’t know how they contacted the illness, and whether it was deliberate or not.”

“I see.”

She said nothing more for a moment, eyes fixated on Fives in a hard stare, as if that alone could provide her with the answers. She turned toward the glowing console next to his tank and manipulated the screen as the captain watched.

“What happened after he arrived on Coruscant?” She didn’t turn to look at him as she spoke, instead focused on the readings in front of her, brown furred fingers tapping against the screen at irregular intervals.

“Fives was taken to the Grand Republic Medical Facility where he spoke directly with Chancellor Palpatine. And that’s when he decided to take it upon himself to try to assassinate the Chancellor.”

The Jedi did pause at that, turning her head to fix him with a hard stare.

“And then?”

“General Shaak Ti stopped him from pulling the trigger, and he escaped the medical facility. Skywalker and I were tasked by the Jedi Council to find him, and we received a communication later that he wished to meet us.”

Rex remembered well the way Skywalker had relayed to him the fact that the Jedi had been purposefully excluded from the search for Fives. He had found it exceedingly strange, and Rex had agreed. Looking back now, a _lot_ of what had happened seemed abnormal.

“We arrived at the warehouse and tried to talk to him, but he trapped us within a ray shield.” Rex’s fists clenched at the memory. “Fives attempted to explain his version of events, but he was acting completely erratic and wasn’t making any sense.”

“How so?”

Rex gave a halfhearted shrug that conveyed the helplessness he felt at trying to explain Fives’ nonsensical state of mind.

“He was paranoid and delusional. The words don’t matter, he was clearly ill. The Coruscant Guard arrived soon after and caused him to panic. He… aimed a pistol on their commander, and he was shot.”

Having to recall the events that had unfolded that morning, reliving the memories, it made Rex’s stomach churn to the point where he wanted to vomit. He wasn’t entirely sure why either. Yes, it had been a nightmarish experience, but Rex had been through similar situations before. He’d been broken down, emotionally and mentally ripped asunder, but he’d always managed to pick up the pieces and go back to being the leader his men needed him to be.

So why had this particular event shaken him so badly?

He hadn’t realized the Jedi’s expression had changed, and once he looked back at her from where he had been staring at the tiled floor, her eyes seemed gentler. Maybe even sympathetic.

“The Coruscant medical team arrived and managed to ease some of the internal bleeding,” Rex continued after pushing down the lump in his throat, his voice surprisingly steady. “There was a complication, however. Doctor Zhia said he had some kind of chemical in his bloodstream; they had no idea what it was. Which is why I asked you.”

The Jedi’s expression was definitely troubled now, and Rex finally noticed that she had stopped working at the station. In fact, her hands had been still for some time.

“What?” Rex prompted, fighting against his eagerness for answers. He was fairly certain he had hooked her at this point, and he needed to exert patience in order to be successful.

“There’s nothing within his blood stream to indicate he is carrying a foreign pathogen. No antibodies unaccounted for, and his T-cell count is within acceptable ranges.”

Rex supposed that wasn’t too surprising; Skywalker had said the Kaminoans had missed Tup’s tumor on their preliminary examination, but he had hoped the Jedi find something they couldn’t.

“Is it possible whatever he has would be hard to detect? “

The Jedi cocked her head, as if listening to something he couldn’t hear, and said, “That’s always a possibility with bioscanners.”

She tapped the screen with one sharp nail.

“I do, however, notice something unusual in his initial blood sample. The one given to us by the Coruscant emergency medics. I believe this is the chemical you are speaking of.”

“What is it?” Rex fought the urge to crowd over her shoulder and glean the results for himself.

“Traces of a molecular compound, though its exact structure is unmatched in the medical database,” she responded as she eyed the screen glowing in Aurebesh. “But it seems to be a type of synthetic hormone; one not produced naturally by the body.”

“Wait. _Unmatched?_ You mean, you don’t know what it is?”

The Cathar looked away from the screen to give him an apologetic look. “As of yet, no.”

“But how would Fives come into contact with something like that? What does it _do?”_

“There is not enough information here to know its purpose,” the Jedi replied, ears slightly drooping.

“What else?” the captain inquired, his gaze immediately drawn back to his brother, as it so often did, accompanied by the familiar feeling of helplessness.

“Well… if it is like most hormones, its purpose is to signal the organs to behave in a certain way.”

That got his attention. Rex moved from his spot in front of Fives’ tank and toward the terminal Linnsho was using, taking a look over her shoulder at the digital readout.

“Which organs?” Rex ignored the startled look she gave at his sudden proximity. He wanted to see the information for himself, but the information on the readout screen might as well have been in Geonosian hive-mind for all he could understand it.

“I don’t know. Master Nema ordered his blood be purified of the chemical with a plasma filter. We would have to run the hormone through a chemical analysis model and that will take some time. The medical database is incredibly expansive, and the analytics involved to categorize—”

“Can you give me your best guess?” Rex interjected before the Jedi could continue with what was obviously going to be a line of thought that would be lost on the captain with his very basic medical knowledge.

The Jedi pressed her dark lips together, giving him a studious look over her shoulder.

“By your description of his behavior, I would say it affects the nervous system.”

The captain rubbed the back of his head as he asked, “Do you know if he took the hormone himself, or if it was given to him?”

Linnsho shook her head, wavy locks mimicking the movement. “There’s no way to tell. I’m sorry, Captain.”

The hollow pit in Rex’s stomach began to make headway through his core as he realized he was right back where he started. No information on a virus or any other sickness that could explain what had happened to both Fives and Tup. Why _not_ have an unidentifiable chemical thrown into the mix?

“I had hoped bringing him here would clear everything up. Explain why he acted that way. So… unlike him,” Rex quietly said, as if speaking to himself more than the Jedi. “I thought it was because he was sick. When we caught up to him, he was making no sense, half-mad and scared. ARC troopers don’t _get_ scared.”

“I’ll continue to search and see what I can find. Perhaps even send the information back to Cathar for our physicians to examine,” the Jedi answered, rubbing the tip of her finger against her jaw thoughtfully. “If the Separatists have found a way to harm or control clones, then it’s a very serious matter for the Republic.”

“It’s a serious matter for us _clones_ too.”

Rex winced at his own snappish tone, rubbing the back of his neck as the Jedi stared at him.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized with a sigh. “It’s been a long day, and I was hoping for better news. I appreciate this, sir. Truly.”

The Jedi gave him a soft smile of understanding. “No need to apologize, I should have chosen my words better. But I do think you could use some rest yourself, Captain.”

Rex really _did_ need to rest. His nerves were frayed, his eyes were painfully dry, and he felt more exhausted than he had in months. Had hadn’t slept in a bed in 48 hours, and he suspected his bone-weary fatigue had less to do with sleep deprivation and more to do with nearly losing his brother.

Maybe the Jedi saw some of the anxiety in his expression, because she stated, “He _will_ recover and be removed from the tank in a few days. I suspect we’ll find some of answers then.”

The captain studied the Jedi’s face, but she seemed sincere enough. Her features may have been non-human. Tapered ears, tan spotted fur, large pupils that thinned into slits in response to the nearby tank lights, but the expression found there was universally translatable.

She _was_ concerned and Rex took that as a good sign. Perhaps she could be a powerful ally in getting Fives the chance he deserved to explain his actions.

“If it’s not too much trouble, sir, could you tell me where I can spend the night?” Rex felt like he was just about to faint on his feet. “The doctor mentioned some spare beds.”

“Yes, of course,” she answered. There was something very _Kenobi_ about the gentle smile on her face, and Rex knew his brother was in good hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Misha'la Linnsho is my own Cathar Jedi OC who may *someday* have her story told if I ever get around to finishing it. All you really need to know will be revealed as we go, but don't worry, she's just a minor character to get things moving along.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Jedi Council summons Rex and it goes about as well as one would expect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last update for now, I'll probably post another chapter tonight! This one was very fun to work through. I just wanted Rex to give the Jedi some well-deserved scolding.

Rex didn’t remember falling asleep, and he was surprised to find his surroundings completely unfamiliar, the bed he slept in foreign and hard with disuse.

He worked his jaw as he slowly brought himself into a sitting position, his mouth thick with cotton as his eyes stung and his head pounded. From the slant and color of sunlight streaming in through the elongated transparisteel window, the captain guessed it was still early morning.

Beginning to pull on his boots after attaching his calf and thigh armor-pieces, the door to the room slid open.

“Sir.” Rex was on his feet in an instant, standing at attention regardless of the fact that he was only half-armored. His spine automatically stiffened as he turned to face his commander, who stood in the doorway with a tired smile on his face.

“At ease, Rex,” Skywalker responded, handing the helmet to the captain as he strode forward. “I believe this belongs to you.”

“Thank you. I was wondering where it’d gone off to.” Rex felt an instantaneous sense of relief as he held the familiar piece of gear in his hands, worn blue Jaig eyes and faded dash marks greeting him like an old friend.

“You’re welcome, Rex.” The fact he was so underdressed didn’t seem to faze Skywalker at all, and by the state of his mussed hair and the yawn he stifled, the Jedi had only just awoken himself. “How did you sleep?”

“Fine, sir,” Rex responded as he pulled on his wrist gauntlets, trying to estimate how long he had slept. Five hours at most, if he was lucky. The captain snapped on his chest and back plate, anxious to see his brother. “Have you gone to see Fives yet, sir?”

“Haven’t had the chance. The Council called an emergency meeting this morning. That’s why I’m here, actually.”

Rex glanced up at Skywalker, but his back was to the captain as he gazed out at the glittering, morning skyline. He wanted for his general to speak, and he didn’t have to wait long.

“The Council wishes to speak with you.”

The words dropped like a stone into the pit of Rex’s stomach.

“Me?”

The Jedi turned toward the trooper now, an eyebrow raised at the apprehension in his tone.

“Nothing to be worried about. It’s a simple debriefing. A few questions and you can come back to the medbay.”

“Of course, sir. Whatever will help them find out what’s wrong with Fives.”

Skywalker ran a hand through his hair distractedly and responded, “To be honest, I’m not sure why they summoned you. They already grilled me about what happened in the warehouse. I’m sure it’s just a formality and you’ll be out of there in no time.”

Rex knew a bit better than that. When it came to the Jedi, things were not as simple as they appeared, and the captain didn’t look forward to enduring the scrutinizing gazes and stern postures of the Jedi Masters.

But if it would aid Fives in any way, Rex would be willing to suffer worse fates than being held under an atomic scanner by some of the most powerful beings in the universe.

“They would have called on you yesterday, but there were… other matters to attend to.”

Rex noted the unhappy tone in Skywalker’s voice, and wondered if it had to do with his disappearance after Fives had been locked away in the surgery bay. The General had received a summons by comlink and hadn’t returned the rest of the day, instead coming Rex later in the evening to tell him he could stay overnight.

If all went well, Rex wouldn’t be needed on the battlefield for some time, and he could remain at Fives’ side until he awoke.

“I’m ready, sir,” Rex announced after he had attached his pelvis plates, his utility belt, holsters, pauldron and kama. He resisted the urge to retreat into the comfort of his helmet, not wanting the Jedi Council to get the wrong impression. He had nothing to _hide_ ; he was just accustomed to battles of a different nature.

Rex’s brisk stride faltered only once as he passed one of the entrances to the bacta medbay. But he forced his feet to carry him forward, keeping pace with Skywalker as the general showed no sign of stopping, silently cursing himself for not rising earlier to spend time with Fives.

The walk to the Council chambers was a lengthy one, and Rex grew a healthy appreciation for just how much walking the Jedi did on a daily basis. He knew the interior of the holy sanctum had been spacious, but its vastness was truly lost on a person until they had to walk its many expansive halls, endless corridors, and vaulted golden ceilings.

This was the first time Rex had been inside the Temple proper; he had been in the hangar briefly preceding their journey to Lola Sayu. General Skywalker had had the _inspired_ idea to carbon-freeze the passengers to slip past the bioscanners in order to rescue General Piell.

The mission had been one disaster after another, and they had barely escaped with the intel vital to the Republic. They had lost the Jedi Master, as well as Longshot, Charger, and many other troopers.

Of course, this was the same mission where they had lost Echo. Fives had completed the mission without any sign of wavering, and Rex had admired his single-minded dedication.

At least… until he had seen what it had done to him after they had returned. It was easier to put aside the loss whilst in the middle of battle. Afterwards, coping with the empty space a brother used to occupy was more harrowing than any blitz, more agonizing than any siege.

The captain and his brothers had been taught how to make war. They had not been told how to maneuver the catastrophic emotional landscape left in its wake.

A pair of masked Temple Guards stood on either side of the lift to the southwestern high tower. They looked identical to the Jedi who had surrounded Fives and the medical team on their arrival, and Rex couldn’t help but eye their white-and-gold masks curiously. The captain spent much of his time living his life under a helmet, but at least the alterations to his armor differentiated him from his brothers. These Jedi had even less individuality afforded to them.

After descending a turbolift the likes of which he had never seen. For being such a serene group of religious-types, they seemed to enjoy their tubes speedy enough to feel as if Rex would be ejected into the lower stratosphere.

The General attempted to make small-talk along the way, but Rex was too distracted in anticipation of the coming meeting that he simply stared ahead, waiting for the turbolift doors to open and release them from its confining space.

A second pair of guards maintained their silent vigilance outside a pair of bronze doors Rex could only assume was the Council Chamber. The captain steeled himself, squeezing the helmet propped on his hip, taking comfort in its familiar presence. Skywalker must have sensed his apprehension, as he placed a hand on Rex’s pauldron-less shoulder.

“It’s going to be fine, Rex.”

“Yes, sir,” he politely responded, not allowing any of his skepticism to leech into his voice. The Jedi were trying to help Fives. That’s what Rex had to keep at the forefront of his mind. They would sort this whole thing out. They would know what to do with his wayward brother.

The faceless guards must have received some sort of signal, because one of them reached over and pulled open a door, silently granting them permission to enter. Rex gave the Jedi a respectful nod and strode forward after Skywalker.

Rex was not prepared for the breathtaking view that greeted him as he stopped within the circular chamber. Floor to ceiling windows displayed the splendor of the city skyline, speeders and hovercraft traveling along their designated paths giving the metropolis the impression that it was almost alive.

The captain was sure the view during dawn or dusk would have been borderline fantastical.

“Master Skywalker. Captain Rex.”

Rex snapped his attention back to the present, taking in a sight that was no less otherworldly and astonishing as the glittering cityscape. Twelve chairs ringed the rotunda, and half of them were currently occupied by sagely, powerful Masters. Not all of them were physically present, as was evident by the blue holograms occupying some of the throne-like furniture.

It was Master Mace Windu who had addressed them, and it was to this older man that Rex gave a deferential salute.

“Thank you for agreeing to meet with us, Captain,” Windu said with a slow nod, presenting the encounter as if Rex had a choice in the matter. “Please accept our gratitude for your assistance in bringing ARC Trooper Fifty-Five-Fifty-Five to the Temple after his capture.”

That was certainly one word for Commander Fox putting a bolt through Fives’ chest after the ARC trooper had panicked.

“I was simply doing my duty, sir,” the captain responded stiffly, his spine rigid.

“At ease, Captain.” The smooth, accented voice of General Kenobi caused Rex to slightly turn to his left. The Jedi met him with a smile that was worn, as it often was these days, and it helped loosen the tension in Rex’s muscles. “This isn’t a formal hearing of any kind. In fact, we are asking for your help.”

“My help? Sir?”

“Yes.” The gravelly, mechanically augmented voice of Master Plo spoke from the seat on Windu’s left, his tapered fingers laced together in a peak as he examined the captain. “Any information you could share that would shine light onto this… situation would be most valuable to us.”

“Of course, sir, but… I’m not sure what I could tell you that General Skywalker hasn’t already covered in his debriefing.”

The captain did not miss the glance that was shared between Kenobi and Windu. Master Yoda sat between them, one gnarled hand curled over the other as he kept his unreadable expression trained on Rex.

“Our inquiry is of a more… personal nature,” Kenobi explained while not really explaining anything at all.

“Know this trooper well, do you? Have fought together on many fields of battle, yes?” the Grand Master inquired as his yellowish, round eyes took in the captain as if he could see him molecule by molecule. Inside and out.

“Yes, sir,” Rex answered. “Ever since the destruction of Rishi Station, Fives has been a valued member of the 501st. He would often join our contingent on special assignment, depending on the difficulty of the mission. His presence, more often than not, was vital to the success of many operations.”

Rex wanted it to be made _quite_ clear that Fives was not just another foot-soldier, another cog in the machine. He knew his unspoken message was received when Master Yoda leaned forward and recited:

“Of the sacrifices he has made, there is no doubt. His willingness to protect his fellow troopers, there is no doubt. It is his integrity we wish to know more of.”

“…sir?” What was the minuscule Master going on about? _Integrity?_

“This clone. ARC Trooper Fifty-Five-Fifty-Five. We wish to know what kind of soldier he was. Outside of the battle zone,” Windu said, leaving Rex still confused about what the Jedi really wanted.

Thankfully, Kenobi was there to clarify things.

“We need to know if Fives’ attack on the Chancellor was something that could be considered an isolated incident, due to some outside influence. Or if this was something he had chosen to take upon himself in the name of some… misguided principle.”

Rex stared at Kenobi for a handful of heavy seconds, disbelieving the words he was hearing, especially from him. Kenobi knew what kind of man Fives was; from the rescue mission on Lola Sayu if nothing else.

Rex spoke very clearly as he shifted his eyes away from Kenobi’s gaze, making eye contact with each of the Council members in turn.

“Fives is a man of _honor._ He has never shirked his duty, and he has never backed down from making difficult decisions that others would shy away from. He has always done what he believes is just and right. Even when doing the right thing conflicts with the direct orders of his superiors.”

They would know he spoke of Krell without the captain needing to invoke his name. He was sure the Jedi would never forget the black stain that particular man had left behind on their Order.

The captain did his best not to bristle under watchful eye of the Jedi Council, but he was not sure how well he succeeded. Questioning Fives’ judgement while he was unwell was one thing. Questioning his ability to understand right from wrong was too much for Rex to let pass unchallenged.

“I know of no man, clone or otherwise, with such a strong sense of moral direction. He would never, under any circumstances, harm the life of an innocent. Not of his own volition.”

 _Careful_ , a small voice whispered in the back of his mind. He had to tread lightly, balance between fighting on behalf of Fives without actually condoning his actions against the most powerful man of the Galactic Republic. It was a fine line he couldn’t quite make out, and it didn’t help that he was on shaky ground, as was often the case when politicians were involved. Let alone the Chancellor.

“Please do not take offense, Captain,” Kenobi stated softly, almost pleading as he watched Rex from his council chair. “We are simply narrowing down possible causes as to what happened to Fives.”

Rex glanced to his right, up into Skywalker’s face, but his commander remained unusually silent. Turning back to the other Jedi, Rex spread his free hand in a gesture of confusion.

“I don’t understand. Fives is ill with whatever killed Tup, isn’t he? Surely, he can’t be held responsible for his actions during that time. Tup couldn’t even remember what he had done after he had killed General Tiplar.”

It was Shaak Ti who responded, physically present as she had remained on Coruscant after Fives’ escape from the Grand Republic Medical Facility.

“There has been no evidence provided by the healers to show that Fives is infected with any sort of pathogen. It appears he was in good health, and the strain of losing Tup was too much for him.”

Rex turned fully toward the Togruta Jedi now, his voice urgent. “But, General. What about the chemical found in Fives’ bloodstream?”

“Still investigating the relevance of this drug, we are,” Master Yoda answered with a dismissive air.

_“Relevance?”_

The old Master raised an eyebrow at the borderline impertinence of his stubborn tone, but Rex continued to press.

“I mean no disrespect, Master Jedi, but this drug, it has behavior-altering characteristics, right? And it’s not in any known medical database? That has to mean _something_.”

Shaak Ti was not a very expressive woman, but her eyes grew wider by increments the longer Rex spoke, and she shot a sharp glance over his shoulder, presumably to where Skywalker stood.

“How did you gain this information, Captain?”

Rex felt his stomach tumble as Skywalker added, “Yeah, Rex. Where _did_ you hear that?”

He didn’t want to expose Linnsho, but there was no point of lying, as Rex had a strong feeling attempting to skew the truth in front of the Jedi’s elite echelon would be a hell of a stupid thing to do.

“One of the healers informed me of what they believed the drug could do, but I already knew about the drug from the Coruscanti medical team,” Rex hastily added, hoping to take some of the heat off of what had been a clear violation of classified information.

“Which healer was it?” Master Plo inquired over sloped claws. It was nearly impossible to tell from the man’s voice and nonexpression how serious this breach had been, as the man nearly always had a pleasant tone and demeanor.

Rex inhaled a steadying breath.

“General Linnsho.”

It was difficult to tell from the blue flickering of the hologram, but Master Fisto appeared to raise an eyebrow while Master Kenobi sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Please do not share what you have learned, Captain Rex,” Kenobi requested in a voice that had lost all levity and gained that much more in weariness. “The nature of our investigation is delicate enough without such knowledge being overheard by those who may interpret it incorrectly. We ask for your utmost discretion.”

Rex creased his eyebrows in befuddlement at this mysterious statement. Interpret it incorrectly _how?_

“I understand, General.” Oh, he _definitely_ didn’t understand, but a soldier didn’t need to comprehend orders to be able to follow them. And there was no mistake; this was an order, not a request. “I will speak to no one on the matter.”

“We appreciate your cooperation, Captain,” General Windu asserted, his reddish-brown eyes boring into Rex as if the intensity of his gaze could ensure his compliance. “Now. Is there anything else you can tell us of the ARC trooper? Anything you believe we should know?”

“Perhaps…” A new voice carefully interjected, drawing Rex’s attention to the Cerean Master seated between Kenobi and Master Yoda. “You could tell us if this clone has shown displeasure towards his superiors? Or found dissatisfaction with the GAR writ large?”

Rex’s grip on his helmet tightened.

“No.”

General Ki-Adi-Mundi raised a tufted eyebrow to the curt response, and Rex amended, “Not to my knowledge, sir.”

“This particular trooper is known for his independent, headstrong approach to problem-solving. Yes? He has demonstrated this during the invasion of Umbara, as well as in Tipoca City during his… self-appointed investigation.” The Jedi Master watched with pale eyes, his face lax as he awaited Rex’s response.

“Fives has his own unique way of tackling difficult situations with improvised creativity. That is true,” Rex responded evenly. The Master’s gaze was clearly interested despite his placid expression. “It’s what makes him worthy of the title of ARC trooper. I would be lying if I said he was far from harmless, but… the same could be said of anyone in this room.”

The captain thought he saw a twitch from beneath Kenobi’s beard, a telltale sign that he was hiding a smile.

Rex realized his tone was approaching the argumentative range, but he _needed_ the Jedi to understand. This wasn’t some errant droid who was having a meltdown in its code. This was a war hero they were talking about. This was _Fives._

“He assaulted several troopers, as well as the chief medical scientist, while escaping custody within the cloning facility,” General Mundi said. “Once they reestablished contact, the ARC trooper used _live bolts_ despite his pursuers relying only on stun blasts. And this was _before_ he had his inhibitor chip removed. Was this a part of his improvised creativity?”

The Jedi fixed the captain with a stare that was more curious than accusatory despite the challenge in his words. He checked off the facts as if they were a matter of academic debate between himself and a colleague rather than serious crimes committed by a soldier of the Republic.

But Rex didn’t have a response as to why Fives would use live heat against other clone troopers. The knowledge itself was startling.

“And after his implant was removed, he assaulted several of the Chancellor’s personal guard, severely wounding two of them before turning a blaster on the Chancellor himself. Is this in line with the clone’s unique response to difficult situations?”

Rex bristled, but his question was met with silence by the other Council members. Clearly, they expected the captain to provide an answer.

“I can’t explain why Fives attacked the Chancellor, sir,” Rex responded stiffly. “It is entirely unlike him, which is why I believe whatever inflicted Tup has also affected him. Tup would have never harmed _anyone,_ let alone one of the Jedi generals. Surely, the absence of one implant can’t change a clone’s personality so drastically.”

General Mundi met Rex’s hard gaze with one that was all serenity and indicated no ill-will. Somehow, this made his words more aggravating.

“Barring your lack of medical expertise, Captain, let us agree and say the chips have nothing to do with the trooper’s mental instability. It is clear _this_ clone has displayed signs of violence previously. He has an established behavioral pattern of deviancy and possesses a most rebellious nature. Is his recent behavior so divergent? You cannot deny this trooper’s methods have endangered those around him before,” the Jedi Master added, his conversational tone setting Rex’s teeth on edge.

“During the Umbara campaign, this trooper coerced fellow clones into stealing enemy starfighters, and convinced them to follow him into a droid control ship in the middle of a major battle above the planet. Without authorization from a superior officer.” Mundi leaned forward as he asserted, “He led an unsanctioned mission that ended with the death of another clone.”

To say the captain was floored was an understatement. If Rex had been able to form cohesive words, he would have told the Cerean Master _exactly_ how Hardcase’s death would have been prevented if Krell hadn’t used the troopers under his command as his personal playthings. How Rex would have been able to send trained pilots to destroy the droid control ship if they had been given time and Torrent Company had not been ordered to march to their slaughter.

How it was the fault of the _Jedi_ that they had not sensed a betrayal within their own ranks until it was too late.

Yes, it was a good thing Rex could not answer past the tightening clench of his jaw.

“We have not brought Captain Rex before us with the intention that he answer for the infractions of another,” Shaak Ti interjected with a cool glance at the other Master before Rex could answer. He was grateful, unsure what his exact response would have been, but it certainly would not have endeared him to the Council. His patience for their scrutiny of Fives’ character was beginning to wear thin.

“Any insight you could give us would be helpful, Captain. Anything at all.” General Kenobi’s gentle, sincere tone helped curb much of Rex’s irritation, and the captain sighed as his shoulders slightly drooped.

“I can’t tell you why Fives did any of those things. I can only tell you that he’s a good man, a good soldier—one of the best I’ve had the pleasure of serving with. He saved the lives of many brothers on Umbara, and while his methods may at times seem unorthodox, he always puts _others_ before himself.”

Rex took a breath before he continued, pleased to see all eyes were on him; the Councilmembers did not seem to even breathe the chamber was so still.

“Fives is the most selfless, dedicated trooper I know. There is a reason I made him into an ARC trooper. He is absolutely committed to protecting the Republic from any threat, and he would lay down his life for any single one of us in a heartbeat.” The captain met each of their gazes as he spoke, finally settling on the pale gaze of Master Mundi.

“Does that answer your question, sir?” Rex couldn’t be completely sure, but he thought he saw an amused twitch from under Kenobi’s beard again.

“Perfectly,” Mundi replied, meeting Rex’s hard gaze with one that was tranquil and placid, clearly unfazed by what must have been the captain’s obvious irritation.

“May I ask why you are asking these questions?”

“You may,” Master Mundi replied evenly. When he did not follow up with a response, Rex pressed his lips tightly together and prayed to whatever gods would listen that he could suffer the Jedi long enough to escape the meeting.

“We wish to be thorough in our inquiry. That is all. It is not an indictment on Fives’ loyalty and dedication,” General Shaak Ti assured him. “In all likelihood, the cause of his divergent behavior is a simple one.”

“And what would that be, Master Shaak Ti?” Skywalker inquired, his tone indicating he already knew the answer but wished it to be repeated for Rex’s benefit.

“The inhibitor chip, which Fives took it upon himself to remove, was meant to discourage reckless, violent behavior. His actions have proved the removal of this device is risky, at best. The endangerment he placed upon you and Master Skywalker further confirms to me that the absence of this behavior modifying device is the driving force behind the ARC trooper’s mental breakdown.”

Even though her lilac eyes were soft and her tone gentle, Shaak Ti’s words felt like a punch to the gut. They sounded _final._

“But… the chemical—”

“We will continue our inquiry, Captain. No stone will be left unturned. But as with many things in life, the solution is often the most obvious one.”

She gave him a light smile, but Rex was unable to return the expression. His life, which was one warzone after another, had taught him the opposite was often true. When things appeared simple and clean, when the route appeared clear and empty, that was when the danger was closest at hand.

Complacency could kill just as surely as any blaster bolt.

“I… understand, General,” Rex responded. There was little point in continuing to argue. The captain could spot a losing battle when he saw one, and what little momentum he had gained had been abdicated to the Jedi.

“For your time, we thank you, Captain Rex,” Master Yoda stated as he gave Rex a warm smile that seemed to only reside in his eyes, his face impassive and touched with weariness, as was true of most of the Jedi.

“I hope I was of some help, Master Yoda.”

The eldest Jedi gave Rex a small nod of his wiry-haired head.

“We will call on you if we have any further questions, Rex,” Kenobi added, infusing some warmth into his words. “Please make yourself available for the next few days.”

“Sir, if I may make a request.”

Kenobi raised his brows in response.

“Yes, Captain?”

Rex glanced sideways at his general to gauge his facial reaction, but Skywalker only appeared curious.

“I would like to be here when Fives wakes up.”

The various members of the Council exchanged wordless glances. Only Master Yoda remained motionless, though his focus seemed to be a thousand yards away.

Rex knew his chances of tipping their decision in his favor was slim to none if he gave them the truer reason he wanted to be there for his brother when he awoke. Rex had told Fives to stay by Tup’s side, no matter what happened. Fives had taken that oath to the extreme, and Rex was to blame.

Rex had known what kind of clone Fives was. He would do anything to protect his brothers, and the captain had been relying on that determination to help bring Tup back safe and sound. Instead, it had backfired on Rex in the worst possible way.

“Rex,” Skywalker softly spoke. “I’m not sure if that’s the wisest decision.”

No, Rex’s sense of guilt and regret would not persuade the stoic Order. But something else might.

“Fives went to our medic with the intention of setting up a meet with General Skywalker and myself. Even in his… vulnerable state, he trusted us. He trusts me, as his commanding officer and his friend.”

Rex took a deep breath. Time for the sell.

“I believe he will be more cooperative if I’m present when he awakens. He will feel safe and more at ease.”

Rex purposefully focused only on what his presence would do for Fives. After Fives’ heated argument with Skywalker regarding the Chancellor, he wasn’t entirely sure the general’s presence would be a positive thing.

“Actually…” General Windu turned his hard gaze back to Rex, face lightening in subtle… humor? “We were planning to ask you to remain within the Halls of Healing.”

“You… you were? Sir?”

“Not for the ARC trooper’s benefit, though I do see the advantage in that arrangement,” he said with a sideways glance at Master Yoda. The ancient Jedi leaned forward and

“Further testing, we ask of you, Captain. A precaution, this is, but one of high value.”

Rex blinked in surprise, glancing upwards at Skywalker. His general was tight-lipped and grim.

“But… I thought you said there was no sign of infection within Fives? That his behavior was due to him removing this biochip?”

“As Master Yoda said, this is simply a precaution,” Shaak Ti answered with that elegant way she had of framing words. “A medical team has already begun to re-examine all the clones that were present on Ringo Vinda. We must rule out every possibility in order to come to the correct conclusion.”

Rex recalled Doctor Nema suggesting he return to the barracks that first evening. Now the Jedi _wanted_ him to stay? He suddenly had a lot more sympathy for the nervous look Fives had given him on Tipoca City after Shaak Ti had told him something very similar.

“Of course. I’ll do whatever I can to be of assistance, sir.”

As if Rex had much of a choice.

“Very good, Captain,” General Windu responded with a pleased nod. “Master Nema will conduct her tests, and it will be up to Skywalker when you may return to the barracks once the doctor has found you to be in perfect health.”

At least they were giving his general the option of allowing Rex to stay. The captain prayed the war stayed at bay for just a little longer. At least until Fives was awake.

“You are dismissed.”

Rex gave a respectful salute to Master Yoda and the rest of the Council (or was he supposed to bow? Rex wasn’t entirely sure) and turned toward the massive golden double-doors that would lead to the waiting foyer.

He expected his general to be beside him, but General Kenobi called out, “Anakin. We would like a word with you.”

Rex slowed his pace and glanced back to where Skywalker had paused, and he gave a nod to Rex.

“Go ahead, Rex. I’ll come by the Halls later.”

“Yes, sir.”

As Rex trod across the golden, intricately patterned floor, he noticed the design was scuffed, the finish dull and ill-maintained. Despite being the High Council chambers, it appeared as if the maintenance droids hadn’t visited the room in months.

Rex tried not to think about how the tarnished golden floor reflected the members who trod upon it daily.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rex vists Doctor Nema for tests.

“Your blood is completely free of antibodies that indicate any type of recent infection.”

Captain Rex was seated on an examination table, stiff and thinly cushioned as most surfaces seemed to be within the temple. He had watched as Doctor Nema had taken a sample of blood from his inner elbow (he’d gone to the medbay enough times to have lost his squeamishness over the procedure, unlike many of his brothers in Torrent Company), and waited as patiently as he could for the machine to filter and test his blood.

Finally, the diagnostic apparatus had chimed with completion, providing Doctor Nema with several screens full of information.

“It appears you are in perfectly good health, Captain. I am sure you are glad to hear it.”

Rex wished he could have been. It only provided more questions over the recent abnormal behavior from his brother. If some pathogen was responsible, at least they would have an answer.

“So… nothing like what Tup and Fives had?” Rex was fishing for more information, desperate for anything.

Doctor Nema paused before replying in an even tone, “We have found no evidence of foreign pathogens in his blood either. Most likely, ARC Trooper Fives has suffered from a mental collapse resulting from his inhibitor chip removal.”

“Oh.”

Rex didn’t hide his disappointment at the news, or lack thereof, and the doctor offered him a smile.

“Hope is not lost. There are treatments available if he does indeed have a neurological imbalance. And, of course, there is always the option of having a new inhibitor chip to replace the missing one. This may correct the problem.”

Rex couldn’t pinpoint why her words sent a shiver down her spine. He’d been told the chips were there to make it easier to follow orders and focus during the chaos of battle. They were implanted to benefit the clones as much as their leaders. It made sense, from an objective point of view.

“Thank you, Doctor.”

“No thanks are necessary, Captain,” she replied in that lofty way Jedi seemed to have perfected. “I only hope we can resolve this issue swiftly.”

“I do as well,” Rex said and moved off of the examination table. “If it’s all right, I would like to visit Fives before leaving for the barracks.”

The doctor paused while studying him with her strange yellow eyes.

“Actually, Captain, we ask that you remain within the Halls for the time being.”

Rex raised his brows.

“We still have a few more tests to run over the next day or two.”

“More tests? But… my blood’s clean, right?”

“These tests are of a more… psychological nature.”

Oh, Rex definitely didn’t like the sound of that, but his options weren’t exactly multiplying by the hour.

“If it’ll help Fives, of course, sir. Whatever you need.”

The doctor bowed her covered head. “Your dedication to the men under your command is to be commended.

She neared the door, allowing it to open for Rex. The compliment made him experience guilt rather than satisfaction as his feet carried him back to the bacta bay.

He had failed Fives somewhere along the way. Whether on Tipoca City or in the warehouse on level 1325, Rex had let his brother down in a fundamentally unforgiveable way.

Which is why he felt he had been given a second chance to set things right, to help Fives get past this situation and return to the 501st where he belonged.

So that was it. All sabacc cards laid on the table. They didn’t believe Fives was ill from a contagion; they believed his own mind had turned against him. That by removing this chip, a piece of bioware he claimed would turn the clones into obedient slaves, Fives had damned himself.

Rex couldn’t deny their course of logic. Tup’s inhibitor chip had been corrupted, and he had executed General Tiplar. Fives had removed his chip, and he had attacked several clone troopers, threatened the chief medical doctor on Kamino, and tried to assassinate the Chancellor.

There had to be more to it than that. If the chips were meant to make them less violent than their DNA template, their absence would not explain the uncontrollable rage. Their genetic donor may have been an accomplished bounty hunter, but Jango Fett hadn’t been a mindless beast as far as Rex knew.

And it that didn’t explain away the drugs they had found in his blood. The missing chip obviously hadn’t caused _that._ It was such a small piece that wouldn’t fit into the larger whole, a loose end that shouldn’t bother Rex. It might not be relevant at all.

And yet…

And yet, the Jedi didn’t seem eager to investigate the presence of the drug. Why?


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rex almost loses his brother a second time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Medical emergencies, violence

Rex had only witnessed the Temple Guards at their posts; unmoving vigilant sentinels who seemed more of an extension of the building rather than living beings. This was the first one he had seen one actually walking on its own, travelling down the corridor ahead of the captain as he made his way toward the bacta bay.

He didn’t move the way Rex would have thought. He had imagined they glided along the carpet, stone-faced phantoms moving through the land of the living. But this watcher moved with a stiff shuffle, a deliberate purpose, and he completely ignored the few Jedi in the halls who gave him a respectful nod.

Nor did he move off into any of the other corridors, and soon he was standing directly in front of the bacta bay. Rex slipped into one of the doorway alcoves, alarm klaxons screaming in his head that something was deeply amiss.

Peeking around the corner, Rex was glad for his precaution. The guard was peering around, emblazoned mask first turning away, then in his direction, and the captain pulled back before he was spotted. Rex rested a hand against his pistol holster as he slowly looked back into the corridor.

The guard was pulling something from of one of his multiple pouches, though Rex couldn’t tell what it was. And then he strode into the bacta bay.

Rex’s heart pounded dully in his chest as slipped on his helmet and crept for the door closest to him. The guard had entered from the far side, and if Rex was careful, he could enter the vast chamber undetected and observe the guard. Because _something_ here wasn’t right.

As the captain knelt next to the entrance, he encountered a problem; he could not control the speed of the automated opening, which may draw the attention of—

Rex nearly had a heart attack as the door slid open with a muted _whoosh_ , but it was only a hovering, squat medical droid exiting the facility, and the captain rushed forward to slip inside before the door closed. He took cover behind the terminal nearest the door, and he waited with his head cocked to the side to listen for any signs of approach with the amplified speakers in his helmet.

Hearing nothing, he incrementally moved to the side until he could see further into the room, which appeared empty from this angle. Even the medical droids were nowhere to be found, and Rex crept forward with his knees bent. The growing unease in his gut bunched into a severe knot when he saw a smoking hunk of metal on the ground next to the ring of bacta tubes.

A ruined pile of what used to be a medical droid, pockmarked with glowing bolt holes.

In one smooth motion, Rex slid his right pistol free of its holster, holding it in both hands as he placed his back against the tanks. Moving cautiously, even as concern for his brother urged him with expediency, he edged closer and closer around the middle of the room until he could see the area where Fives’ bacta tank was held.

The golden-brown robed figure stood at the monitoring station for Fives’ chamber. Rex put one foot forward as he aimed his pistol directly at the guard’s head.

_“Don’t move!”_

The golden mask snapped in his direction. Expecting the figure to draw forth the elongated lightsaber on his belt, he instead drew a blaster from within the opening of his sleeves, and fired upon the captain.

Dodging out of the bolt’s trajectory, Rex heard the explosion of shattering transparisteel next to his head as he was deluged with hundreds of gallons of viscous bacta.

The torrent probably saved his life; the next few blaster shots missed him as he rolled across the floor, shoved by the tide of liquid as his momentum carried him to a bank of terminals. Scrambling against the slick, bacta-soaked floor, Rex took shelter behind the consoles, pulling out his second pistol as the first was lost somewhere in the downpour.

The blaster bolts continued to rain down on him, forcing the captain to duck down as he attempted to aim at the figure. Rex swore hotly as one bolt came close to snagging him across the faceplate, but that didn’t stop him from peering over the terminals and returning fire where he could.

 _Where the hell are the blasted Jedi?!_ Rex wanted to scream as he continued to exchange shots with the guard. How did they _not_ know their medical bay was under attack!

There was a pause, and Rex leapt up to brace his arms against the top of the terminal, aiming and firing on the sentinel. The bolt hit him directly in the center of the mask’s forehead, his head jerking back from the impact.

But the figure did not fall. He slowly brought his head back into a forward position, directly facing Rex as the hole curdled with smoke.

Rex barely had time to register the fact the sentinel had just taken a blaster bolt to the head with apparently no ill-effect before the intruder turned back to the station and aimed his blaster at the controls.

_“No!”_

Rex cried out in horror, and he knew it was too late as the guard opened fire on the terminal. He next aimed his weapon at Fives’ helpless suspended form, barely slowed as he took one hit after another from Rex’s pistols, tan robes smoking with each hole that Rex placed there.

Then a noise, low and vibrating but rising in intensity, drew the guard’s attention as he faltered and looked over his shoulder. There was a brown blur lit by a golden light, and the white-and-gold mask gave a warbled noise of surprise as the yellow lightsaber separated head and neck in one clean stroke.

Linnsho hit the ground in a crouch, one hand braced against the floor with lightsaber extended in the other, the lifeless form of the guard following suit as it fell before her. Her expression was feral, her pupils narrowed into slits, lips curled back into a fanged, silent snarl.

Rex lowered his pistols and the movement drew her attention, her wild gaze flickering to him in a way he’d seen hostile animals do on especially untamed planets.

The Cathar blinked several times and the look was smoothed from her features. She extinguished her lightsaber and placed it securely on her belt as she straightened into an upright position.

“Are you harmed, Captain?”

“I’m fine,” he breathed out, trying to slow his heart rate now that the danger was over. “But what the hell was _that?”_

Rex wasn’t surprised to see the sloping head of a commando droid roll out from underneath the polished helmet when the Jedi prodded it with her foot. She didn’t seem too surprised, either, and she must have sensed it was a droid and not a living being.

Rex removed his bucket and set it aside as he approached the figure on the ground, re-holstering his remaining pistol. He’d have to find the other, and he gave the commando droid a good kick.

To make sure it was truly offline, of course.

Out of the corner of his eye, Rex caught jerking, frantic movement. Linnsho’s head snapped toward the bacta tank as Fives, placid a moment ago, was now thrashing in his tank.

Linnsho rushed to the monitoring station, Rex close on her heels. There were several steaming bolt holes across its surface, sparks and smoke spiraling from its exposed innards as the monitor flickered angrily. She growled in a language he didn’t recognize, but he knew curses when he heard them.

“What’s happening!” Rex’s heart squeezed in his chest he watched the healer’s movements become more and more frantic as she tried to force the machine’s cooperation.

The Jedi looked up, not at him but at Fives’ tank.

“We have to get him out of there!”

Linnsho rushed past him as she descended on the tank, sliding her hands across its surface in a pattern that seemed to indicate she was looking for something.

“What? _Why?”_

“The oxygen flow was reversed just before the controls were destroyed. Be ready.”

“For _what?”_ Rex glanced from his unconscious brother to the Cathar, eyebrows furrowed.

“To catch him.”

Before Rex could ask what the hell she meant by _that_ , she screwed her eyes tight, sharp teeth bared, and then the tank shattered into a thousand fractal pieces.

Not incrementally, not with a broken web of cracks and fissures, but as one whole movement of glittering transparisteel and floating liquid. It did not explode outward in a flux of liquid as the other tank had; it flowed outward around himself and the Jedi in a mesmerizing display of unexpected grace.

It would have been beautiful if not for the dire circumstances they were in.

And there was Fives suspended within, his body seizing in distress and oxygen deprivation, and the captain rushed forward without having to be told, grabbing his brother in his arms as he pulled him out of the force that held him in the air.

Once the trooper was securely in Rex’s grip, the Jedi dropped her arms and the glittering particles of bacta and transparisteel fell to the floor around them, drenching their lower legs and feet in the slimy, sweet-smelling mixture.

Without pause, she half-turned and flung her palm toward the outer wall of the bacta bay, drawing one of the mobile, medical gurneys towards them as Rex struggled to keep upright as Fives twitched against him.

Linnsho reached forward and removed the respirator strapped over Fives’ mouth and pulled several other tubes from his body as Rex tried to keep a firm grip on slick skin which was quickly growing cold from exposure to the air.

“Here,” the Jedi instructed as she helped guide Rex’s brother to the gurney, lifting the deadweight of his legs while the captain gripped him under the arms. The two of them lowered him onto the gurney where Fives abruptly stopped moving, Rex’s heart leaping in alarm.

“Linnsho?”

The Jedi ignored him and pressed her palm against Fives’ chest. The blaster shot wound was a livid, raw hue against his tan skin. Skin that was becoming paler by the second.

_“Linnsho!”_

Rex couldn’t control his rising panic. What was she _doing?_ Where was Doctor Nema? Why hadn’t any of the other Jedi come? Had they not heard the blaster shots and the shattering bacta chambers?

Fives was possibly _dying_ , and the only Jedi present didn’t seem to be doing a damn thing—

“Give me your hand.”

The Cathar opened her reflective eyes and fixed him with a firm stare when he didn’t respond, his mouth slightly agape.

“I need your help, Captain. _Fives_ needs your help.”

That got him moving, both the words and her clipped tone that was the familiar one used by medics during times of emergency. He had to trust she knew what she was doing. There simply was no alternative.

The captain extended his hand, and she took it by the wrist, drawing it down toward Fives’ chest, placing it over her own clawed fingers.

“I know this will be difficult, but clear your mind as best you can. Open yourself to what you feel, and do not resist against the sensation.”

Rex had no idea what the Jedi was thinking, or what she was even _talking_ about, but with their kind, he rarely did.

“Trust in the Force. And do _not_ let go.”

The warning was barely given in time for Rex to prepare for what came next.

He felt as if every muscle in his body was seizing as one, his palm magnetized to the back of her hand, and an unnatural pressure was trying to suck the marrow through his bones.

_“Do not fight it.”_

The voice sounded far away, hollow and empty, and his vision blurred as the room took on a smeared quality, forcing him to shut his eyes tight. Rex batted away the panic that threatened to drag him down. He tried to obey the healer, tried to hold off against the survival instincts that told him to flee, every nerve in his body screaming at him to pull away.

Fives. He was doing this for _Fives_. No matter what the cost to himself, he would do this for him. He would die for him, if he had to.

After the thought was formed in his mind and he clamped down on his unbreakable desire to keep his brother alive, the startling experience was easier to bear. Even though the intensity of the negative pressure increased, as if his very blood was being drawn through the palm of his hand, he didn’t let go.

He was faintly aware that there was movement beneath his hand, and Rex opened his eyes to see Fives with his back arched, fingers curled into claws as his limbs trembled violently.

Linnsho’s hand remained splayed against his chest, her other hand pushed against his forehead to trap it against the surface of the gurney. Rex’s left hand was still free, and he pushed it down against Fives’ thigh, doing what he could to help keep his brother from injuring either himself or them with his flailing limbs.

The Jedi shot him an appreciative glance before focusing her attention back to where their hands were directly above Fives’ heart, nearly flush with the wound. Rex continued to hold on, even as it became harder to breathe. He could feel his heartbeat in his ears, within his throat, even pulsating in his eyes. It was the most unnerving experience he had ever endured.

And then it was over. Fives fell back against the gurney, Linnsho broke contact with his skin and Rex stumbled, prevented from falling backwards by the Jedi as she gripped his upper arm tightly.

She was panting, her fingers trembling against the exposed black of his bodysuit just above his arm plate. She looked as exhausted as the captain felt, but he saw hope in her expression too.

“Thanks,” Rex hoarsely croaked, feeling as if he’d aged half a lifespan within the last few minutes. His gaze fell to Fives after Linnsho released him, bracing himself against the gurney to stay upright as he studied his brother’s face after affirming the constant rise and fall of his chest was indeed not an illusion.

Fives’ complexion had returned to a healthy hue, his cheeks practically ruddy in the glaring light from the broken bacta tank. His wound was no longer an angry red, now faded into a deep pink, and Rex could have sworn he almost looked better than he had while still suspended in bacta.

“Is he…?”

“Alive,” the Jedi responded as she unhooked a respirator mask from the side of the gurney, fixing it to Fives’ face as she spoke, sounding as breathless as he did. “He’ll need to be placed into another bacta tank. I just… need a moment.”

The captain blinked as he studied her shaky form, unsure as to what exactly had just happened. He’d never seen any of the Jedi Generals heal a wound on the battlefield before. As far as he knew, it wasn’t even possibile.

“What did you do?”

When his question was met with silence, Rex turned and was startled to see the Cathar sitting on the ground, her knees pulled upward as she rested her head between them.

“Linnsho?”

“I’m all right,” came her muffled, exhausted response. Rex crotched next to her, hands paused in midair as he didn’t know what to do or how to help her.

“Where is Doctor Nema? I can get her for you.”

“There’s… no need. I can comm her.” The Jedi raised her head and offered him a shaky expression of gratitude. “Thank you, Captain. You did very well.”

Rex raised an eyebrow, but before he could ask for further clarification, the Cathar raised her arm and pressed a finger to the comm device on her forearm.

“Master, it’s Linnsho. Please come to bay number six. We’ve had… an intruder within the Halls.” The Jedi closed her eyes as she waited for a response, and Rex hovered close by as she appeared she would faint any moment.

_“That’s impossible.”_

Rex raised his eyebrows at the doctor’s quick dismissal, and Linnsho gave a small tilt of her head, as if used to this sort of thing.

_“The alarms would have sounded if there was someone within the Temple who should not be.”_

“They must have been disabled. Two of the bacta tanks were broken, and none of the emergency signals were triggered.”

_“I don’t understand. Who is the intruder?”_

Linnsho blinked and looked up at Rex

“A droid.”

_“A droid?”_

“Some kind of commando droid, by the looks of it, though not one I’ve ever seen before,” Rex added as he peered over at the severed mechanical head. He’d contended with many of their kind before, but never one with that particular silver color. The way the material shone in the light was different too, as if made from a sleeker alloy.

“Who’s that?” the doctor asked immediately at the sound of Rex’s voice.

“Captain Rex,” Linnsho answered. “He was here with me when the attack took place and helped subdue the droid. I agree with the captain, I don’t recognize this particular model.”

 _“Linnsho, are you sure?”_ Now her toned was laced with disbelief, and Linnsho gave a small sigh that Rex found surprisingly relatable.

“Yes, Master Nema. It caused some damage to a monitoring station, but we prevented it from what I believe was its true goal.” She paused, blinking rapidly before adding, “I think it was here to kill the ARC trooper.”

 _“I’ll be right there,”_ Doctor Nema’s accented voice answered quickly. Rex didn’t know how to interpret her edged tone, but it wasn’t good.

“Alert Master Drallig as well. The droid was wearing a Temple Guard uniform. I’m worried how he obtained it.”

Doctor Nema’s response was delayed for a few heavy seconds before she replied, _“I will alert the Council immediately. Stay where you are, Linnsho.”_

“Yes, Master.” After disconnecting from the doctor, Linnsho mumbled, “I’m not sure I could move even if I wished to.”

Another relatable statement. Rex felt as if he had been stuck in an intense battle zone for hours.

After studying her for a moment, Rex scanned the bacta bay, looking past the gurney to the destruction that had been wrought so quickly. Pieces of transparisteel littered the soaked floor, and Rex was grateful his body glove was airtight. Linnsho’s robes hadn’t fared well, she was drenched to the knees by the sickly-sweet liquid, making his nose wrinkle.

Rex’s attention was drawn to where his brother lay on the gurney, but his condition hadn’t changed. At least he had survived the deadly encounter with the droid, which forced Rex to wonder why the hell the Separatists would go through the trouble of trying to murder him? Then again… they had gone after Tup soon after he’d lost his mind and killed General Tiplar.

“I don’t understand how this occurred. He shouldn’t have been alone.”

Linnsho’s mouth was set into a somber expression as her tone darkened, round eyes surveying the damage just as Rex had a moment ago.

“Who was on duty at the time? Doctor Nema?”

Linnsho tilted her head as her eyes dropped to the unmoving robed droid.

“The doctor is often away in meetings to consult with medical stations and clinics across the galaxy. But there is always at least one healer on duty. For the mid-week evenings, it should have been Healer Rurrik watching over the few patients we have. Especially this one.”

“He should be here by now,” she commented, and Rex couldn’t help but agree. Even though the Temple was vast, wouldn’t some of Doctor Nema’s other assistants arrive sooner?

“How the hell did that thing get in here in the first place?” Rex wondered aloud. Now that the crisis had passed, alarm bells of a different sort were ringing in his head. “And what would the Separatists accomplish by this? They probably went through a _lot_ of trouble to infiltrate the Jedi Temple.”

The Cathar didn’t respond at first, eyes falling to the subject in question as it lay motionless on the bacta-soaked floor.

“I do not know. But they nearly succeeded.”

Rex prodded the prone figure with his boot. It was definitely dead, but that didn’t mean it was now harmless. He’d seen droids rigged to explode on more than one occasion.

“At least the Jedi Council can’t deny that something larger is at play, now.”

The captain crouched down next to the robed commando droid, pulling aside the folded cloth along its chest to get a better look at the chassis. Commando droids were leaner and flexible than most battle droids, but this one had easily mimicked the tall, broad frame of a Jedi Guard.

“What do you mean?” the Jedi asked, her tone almost sharp as Rex began to expose the durasteel shell of the droid.

Rex winced at his own loose tongue.

“It’s nothing, General. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

The Jedi didn’t seem to want to drop the matter.

“Are they not taking this seriously?” She paused, and then added carefully, “What about Master Kenobi?”

“The Council is looking into the matter,” Rex almost sighed. “That’s all I can say.”

The Jedi said nothing to this, and Rex found his attention focused more closely on the droid. Rex had been right, the material was not of the usual color or texture of the commando droids Rex had battled before. Commando droids were often a muddy brown with copper-colored joints. This one was smooth, grey, and formed to resemble a humanoid much more closely.

A chill ran through the captain as he examined the blaster marks along the left flank of the droid and found none of them had penetrated the smooth armor casing encompassing the headpiece of the droid: a weakness that had always prevailed in every other commando droid Rex had faced.

“Seems the Separatists are building new battle droids. This can’t be good—”

_Whoosh-whoosh. Thud-thud-zzzuuum._

Rex jerked back from the droid, springing to his feet and reaching for his lone pistol at the sudden cacophony of noise

Several robbed figures rushed into the medical bay, extending their golden double-lightsabers with a coordinated flourish. The captain didn’t pull the weapon from its holster, glimpsing Doctor Nema and the Jedi he assumed to be Master Drallig following on their heels.

These were true Temple Guards, not additional commando droids descending on their target to finish the job.

He removed his hand and sent a glance to Linnsho, seeing she was still on the ground but had also placed a cautionary hand to the lightsaber hilt on her waistband. She leased the weapon and struggled to her feet, assisted by the doctor who had appeared startled that her assistant was on the ground.

“Misha’la, are you all right?”

“I’m fine, Master,” the Cathar answered with a wince. “The captain and I were unharmed by the droid.”

“Then what’s happened to you?” Doctor Nema asked in a sharp tone. “Why are you so fatigued?”

“It’s unimportant right now,” Linnsho responded. Rex wondered why she seemed so reluctant to just tell the truth, that somehow she had made Fixes… well, _better._

As the doctor fussed over her assistant, Rex watched the Temple Guards methodically examine the room, checking each nook and alcove for any other possible intruders. Their thick boots crunched against the glittering transparisteel coating the slick floor as two of them bent to carefully examine the lifeless husk of the commando droid.

“How about you, Captain?” the doctor inquired, having given Linnsho the once-over before descending on the captain, her golden eyes scrutinizing his face before her delicate-looking fingers began to poke and prod at his armor, searching for breaches in the material.

“We’re _fine,”_ Linnsho insisted as she glanced at Rex over the doctor’s shoulder, eyebrows raised when Rex tried to politely escape her prodding hands.

“The droid was quickly dispatched by General Linnsho.” He hoped the doctor wouldn’t take offense, but Rex’s anger was returning at the Order’s slow reaction to the crisis. “If it wasn’t for her, Fives wouldn’t have made it.”

At the mention of the ARC trooper, Doctor Nema turned her attention to the prone, quiet figure on the gurney. He seemed as if he were resting peacefully, the droplets of bacta dotting his skin the only evidence that something horrible had almost occurred.

“I assume his bacta chamber was damaged in the attack?” the doctor inquired as she began to examine Fives. She gently opened the upper and lower eyelids of first his right eye, and then his left, searching them.

“No, I broke the tank myself,” Linnsho replied as she moved behind the doctor, close enough to watch over her examination of Fives but distanced enough that she would not be in the way.

When Nema looked over her shoulder with a questioning eyebrow, Linnsho clarified, “The oxygen-exchange system had been reversed and he was entering a state of hypoxia. There was no time for a proper removal of the patient from his chamber.”

Doctor Nema was handed some kind of device from a nearby medical droid, and she began a slow scan over Fives’ unmoving body. Rex watched the meticulous movements, anxiety announcing its presence in his gut as her face remained impassive throughout the examination.

“Well?” the captain pressed when he could no longer sit with the doctor’s silence. “How is he?”

Instead of answering, the doctor gave Linnsho a disapproving look that was harsh on her normally soft face.

“What was the condition of the patient after his impromptu retrieval?”

Linnsho blinked, glancing in Rex’s direction for a moment, something akin to worry in her eyes. The captain could only raise an eyebrow in response, not understanding the source of her apparent apprehension.

“He was… in distress,” came her evasive response as she didn’t quite meet the eye of her superior.

“How badly?”

The Cathar seemed to be under some kind of internal debate as she chewed her lip, looking past both of them to what Rex suspected was the subject of their discussion.

“Linnsho…” The doctor folded her arms across her chest, her expression and tone unwavering as she waited for a response. Linnsho’s shoulders drooped as she relented.

“He was suffering from hypercapnia and had stopped breathing. His pulse was negligible.”

Nema unfolded her arms and Rex could see the warning in her eyes as Linnsho added in a desperation Rex did not understand, “I had no choice!”

“We have discussed this, on repeated occasion, Misha’la. Have we not?”

The Cathar’s ears folded further against her head, voice tight as she replied, “Yes, Master. But—”

“There are resuscitation devices in _this very room_. You could have used any one of them.”

“There was no _time_. He was—”

Whatever Linnsho was about to say was interrupted by one of the guards, voice modified as it was projected through his mask.

“Master Nema.”

The doctor blinked and looked over her shoulder, fully turning around when the guard held up a brown cloth within his hand.

“You will want to see this.”

Giving a nod to the sentinel, Nema shot one last look at Linnsho that clearly stated _we will discuss this later._ The Cathar folded her long ears in an unhappy expression.

Once the lead healer was out of earshot, Rex moved closer to her and said in a low tone, “I don’t understand. Is the doctor upset with you?”

She gave a small wince and responded, “It’s… complicated.” She wasn’t looking at Rex, instead seeing past him to where the doctor was standing, so she couldn’t see the skeptical eyebrow he shot her way.

What was so complicated about saving someone who was dying?

Then she was moving past him, and the captain followed her progress to notice something had changed in doctor’s demeanor. She stood absolutely still, almost frozen, and a fist was curled against her chest as she looked down at the object Master Drallig was holding in his palm.

“Master Nema?”

The doctor did not acknowledge Linnsho’s worried voice, instead activating the comm at her wrist. She raised the device to her face, and Rex could see her hand trembling.

“Master Yoda, please come to the Halls of Healing. I… believe something terrible has happened.”

The fragility in her voice was unlike nothing Rex had heard from the Jedi thus far. She sounded shocked, even horrified, and Linnsho looked back at him with a concerned expression that urged him forward.

Rex stared down at the object, uncomprehending for a moment. Then it clicked. How the commando droid was able to bypass the computer systems so easily; how it was able to manipulate the machines connected to his brother.

It lay within the piece of cloth that was stained brown not by dyes, but by dried blood; the half-curled, pale hand of a human. Severed at the wrist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Doctor Nema's reaction to Mish using Force-healing will be explained eventually. Let's just say the Jedi don't trust methods of the Force they haven't personally approved :)
> 
> Let me know what y'all think about this chapter and that disguised commando droid!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lord Sidious is displeased with Dooku's failure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for your comments! Poor Fives and Rex indeed.
> 
> Chapter Warnings: Violence, Sith doing Sithy things

The Count paced with an anxious air in front of his communication terminal, heavy cloak swaying around his ankles as he turned, heels clicking against the ebony marble floor. Each moment that passed was an eon of agony, an echo of the anguish that was sure to come.

A chime sounded from the terminal accompanied by a faint, fluctuating glow, causing Dooku to flinch. The older man took a slow, deep breath, smoothing back his silvery hair before straightening the front of his tunic.

Dooku reached forward and activated the comm channel, immediately sinking to one knee as he prostrated before the hologram had even fully formed.

“My Lord,” the Count rumbled with the appropriate amount of awe and fear, bowing his silvery head as a cowled figure towered above him.

“Rise,” the baleful voice commanded, and Dooku’s gut tightened at the dissatisfaction that tinged the words.

Dooku blinked but did as he was told, slowly gaining his feet as he gazed up into the blackness of his Master’s hood. What little he could glimpse (a hooked nose and a pair of gleaming eyes) did nothing to clue in Dooku as to how the Sith Lord would deal with this latest failure.

“I am concerned for your health, my old friend,” Sidious began, voice as smooth and sweet as honey. “We are both no longer the spry figures of our youth, taking on life’s burdens as if they were no heavier than a plucked feather.”

“…Master?”

“Especially one’s hearing. That is often the first thing to go once a man reaches his golden years.”

Dooku felt the blood drain from his face, his throat working as it fought to swallow the lump within.

“That is the only acceptable explanation as to why when I ordered you to take care of the problem, you categorical, undeniably failed in _every possible iteration_ of the term!” The hood of his master jerked to enunciate his words, spit forth with such fire that Dooku could not stop the trembling in his hands.

“Master, please, I can explain—”

“How you not sent one of our prototype droids into the depths of the Jedi Temple and then failed to retrieve it?” The Sith Lord’s eyes did not gleam now, they burned with absolute malice as they pinned the Count on the spot. “I am sure I will be absolutely riveted by the reasoning behind your bumbling idiocy.”

Keeping the fear out of his voice as well as he could (and wasn’t that a losing battle), the count said, “We believed the SD-9s were the perfect choice for an incursion into enemy territory. That is why they were created, and—”

“Did I ask for paltry excuses, _Tyranus_? I do not remember requesting such a thing.” His Master seemed to loom over him from great heights, his stature so much more than his physical appearance. “There will be a full accounting of your actions for this colossal disaster, of which you bear full responsibility.”

“Master,” Dooku nearly begged as he held his hands forward, palms up in supplication. “The droid did manage to infiltrate the Temple undetected. Its armor was impenetrable to blaster fire and it could mimic nearly any humanoid species. This was not a failure on the part of the droid’s design.”

“Then, why…”

Dooku felt a presence ghost along the skin of his neck.

“—is the clone—”

The Count began to gag as the sensation transformed into an invisible noose around his throat, his hands flying to his neck to claw uselessly at the attack.

_“—still alive?”_

The only answer the Count could provide was wide-eyed terror as he fought to suck in air down his windpipe, the airway reduced to almost nothing; his Master gave him enough leeway to gasp pitifully but not enough to fully inflate his lungs.

“I don’t think you fully understand the consequences your thoughtless actions have wrought,” the Sith Lord continued with a conversational tone even as Dooku spluttered and choked. “The Jedi were under the impression that this clone was as defective as a corrupted droid. And of course, the prestigious medical doctors at the Republic Medical Facility were going to provide all the answers they needed. But now—”

Sidious gave a burdened sigh as he peered down at his apprentice who was beginning to turn an interesting shade of red.

“Now, the Separatists have sent a droid, one never seen by the likes of the Republic, to execute the troublesome clone.” Sidious gave a low snarl as he cut the rest of Dooku’s air, beginning to suffocate him completely.

“Your actions have created more legitimacy towards this clone’s claims than anything he could have provided himself. I may as well have handed them the inhibitor chips if I knew my apprentice was going to be such a brainless creature and bring my hard work to ruination regardless!”

Spots were beginning to cloud his vision. Dooku had underestimated how angry his Master would be, that was clear, but he could fix the problem. He knew he could.

Unable to speak, the Count raised one hand toward Sidious, silently pleading as the other hand continued to claw at his throat.

 _Please, Master,_ he silently howled along the bond Sidious had ensnared over him years ago. _I beg you. I have a solution._

The Sith Lord continued to stare down at him, a sneer pulling back the corner of his lips as he studied him as a cruel child would a helpless insect pinned to the dirt.

And the relief, blessed sweet relief as the pressure was lifted from his airway. Dooku gasped so hard he feared his throat would tear, his lungs screaming as he filled them with precious air, his vision exploding into oppressive hues of purple and green as color returned to the world.

He could feel his Master above him, waiting as the Count spluttered and choked for breath, panting like a hunted animal in a way that was somehow more humiliating than being driven to his knees and suffocated.

After a moment, Dooku slowly rose to his feet while rubbing his chaffed neck, and his Master’s expression had not changed from the dark displeasure that radiated from the cowled figure.

“If I desired cries of mercy and screams for forgiveness, I would go to my former apprentice for such amusement.” His voice, always edged with a growl when he was displeased, was nearly a snarl as he commanded, “Speak.”

“Thank you, Master,” Dooku offered in abject supplication, knowing his Master would expect it even as he ordered an expedient explanation. “I believe… we can use this situation to our advantage. Perhaps even… even come out ahead.”

“Go on,” Lord Sidious drawled with the deceptiveness of a riptide hidden beneath calm waters.

“This clone made an attempt on the… Chancellor’s life. Of that there can be no question,” Dooku said as he spoke of his Master’s alternate persona. He paused, and when Sidious continued to listen, he gathered his courage and stood straighter as he explained, “And now a rather valuable asset was sent to assassinate the trooper. Perhaps it was tasked to do because the clone had failed in his mission to… exterminate the head of the Galactic Republic.”

The Sith Lord raised a gnarled hand to his face, thoughtfully stroking his chin as he focused on a point above apprentice’s shoulder.

“It would not be difficult to leak an encrypted transmission relaying such orders, as well as the Confederacies’ desires to obscure the knowledge that another clone had been tasked with killing a Jedi General… one who had succeeded.”

Dooku was referring to the death of General Tiplar on Ringo Vinda. He, along with the leadership on Kamino, knew the truth; the clone had killed the Jedi in a premature execution of Order 66. It was the entire reason the prototype commando droid had been sent to eliminate the ARC trooper—no word of the true purpose of the inhibitor chips could reach Jedi ears.

When that had not succeeded, Dooku had formulated a new plan from his failure. The truth could be a hard thing to swallow, even amongst the Jedi, and the idea that a handful of clones had turned traitor for the Separatists was a much easier thing to believe than an entire army being created with the capacity to one day destroy the Jedi Order.

Lord Sidious leaned forward, intrigued, and the Count could feel more than see his Master’s laser-sharp gaze.

“Place both clones in a position where they will be labeled as assassins and traitors?”

Dooku ceased rubbing his neck as he fully straightened, keeping his head down at a submissive angle. “Yes, my Lord. This would not be the first time such an occurrence has come to pass.”

“Indeed… I remember the clone who was so easily persuaded by your former apprentice with the promises of credits and… freedom.” His Master stated this last with a sneer, and Dooku nodded his head. Ventress had done her duty well in finding a clone willing to betray his brothers.

Somedays, Dooku missed that brutal efficiency, especially since he had failed to find a worthy replacement. But he never spoke such thoughts to his Master, as he was the one who had ordered Dooku to eliminate his old apprentice.

Such were the ways of the Sith.

“The suspicion of traitorous clones will turn attention away from the inhibitor chips. Perhaps the decay of this chip caused the clone to carry out this assassination prematurely. After all,” the Count added with a slow smile across his aristocratic features, “this trooper was missing for several days prior, and could not explain his whereabouts. He may have been meeting with his Separatists contacts, or was beginning to unravel from his corrupted biochip. Either way, these circumstances are very… suspicious.”

“Would the Jedi adopt such a tale?” Lord Sidious inquired, though by his velvety tone the Count knew he was pleased with where this line of thought was going. “They hold these laboratory subjects in high regard according to your contact on Kamino.”

“I believe they will have little choice, especially when all evidence points to an obvious conclusion. In your wisdom, you have already convinced them that the inhibitor chip was an isolated incident. In fact, this helps our case.”

The hood took a slight tilt as Sidious cocked his head, and Dooku added, “The ARC trooper’s chip was perfectly functional when it was removed. He had no medically-proven explanation for resorting to such extreme aggression. And yet he still attempted to assassinate the most important figure within the Republic after he insisted on traveling to Coruscant to meet with him.”

A gradual expression of mirth began to spread across Lord Sidious’ face, and it was both terrible and mesmerizing to witness.

“Not one, but _two_ traitors to the Republic. This Clone Trooper Tup and ARC Trooper Fives were close associates. One assassinates a Jedi General, the other attempts to execute the Supreme Chancellor.” The dark lord gave a sharp cackle that sent Dooku’s skin awash with gooseflesh. “This solution may well work to my designs. I am pleased, my apprentice.”

Dooku nearly shivered, both from relief and the underlying desire to please his Master.

“The Jedi Council was foolish to underestimate your cleverness and waste such… potential.”

The Count bowed his head at such high praise, unable to repress the shudder that crawled along his spine, born of both fear and pleasure. His Master was often fickle with his compliments, and to earn them (even after Dooku had nearly made the problem of the renegade clone much, much worse) was a testament to his Master’s fairness.

“You are generous, my Lord. I will strive to continue to be worthy of calling myself your apprentice.”

“See that you do. No more _mistakes_.”

Dooku’s breath shuttered at the sharp word and the promise of pain within it.

“My plans are coming to fruition very soon, after so many years of building an empire from flecks of dust into something that will span the galaxy for millennia to come.” Sidious’ voice lowered into a baleful growl as he added, “Failure at this juncture is unacceptable.”

“I understand, my Lord,” the Count said on bended knee as his head remained bowed.

“Then complete this task before you, Lord Tyranus. When next I call upon you, I except… _happier news.”_

He could hear his Master’s lips curl around the threatening words with a malicious delight before the connection was ended. Dooku released a shuddering exhale once he no longer felt the overwhelming presence of his Master, and slowly rose to his feet while his knee panged in protest from its unfair treatment against the stone floor.

But the Sith Lord ignored the meager pain; it would pale in comparison to the agonies his Master would visit upon him if he failed in this task. Death would be a preferable venture in light of the punishment that awaited him.

He would succeed in finding a permanent solution in eliminating the troublesome clone, once and for all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently it's canon that Tup did disappear a few days before his chip went haywire and he killed Tiplar. They never did explain why, so I used that to my advantage. *wiggles fingers*
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this little scene. Sith Lords live for the drama.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rex receives some bad news.

“Are you sure you’ll be all right?”

The question caused the Cathar Jedi to raise her head in Rex’s direction, temporarily pausing the search she had been conducting in her satchel. The captain and Jedi had been sequestered in a private medical examination room while the Jedi security team could investigate the assaulted bacta bay.

Linnsho raised her eyebrows in an expression that seemed to universally indicate confusion, even among species as isolated as hers.

“Whatever you did to Fives. It looked like it took a lot out of you.”

Her ears turned downwards.

“Do not concern yourself, Captain. I’m fine.”

Rex was about to reply that he wasn’t _concerned_ , but he stopped himself because one, it would have sounded rather rude, and two, he supposed he was. It may have only been inside a medical bay in the Jedi Temple, but they had still shared a moment of intense combat together.

Besides, checking in to make sure fellow soldiers had made it through a battle alive was second-nature to any brother.

The Jedi reached back into her satchel and pulled out two small containers of pale liquid. Rex eyed them questioningly as she paused, looking almost shy as she said, “It was very fortunate you were there, Captain. The droid may have succeeded in killing the ARC trooper, even if I had arrived in time.”

Rex furrowed a brow as she clarified, “Lightsaber combat hasn’t come easily to me. I wasn’t very proficient when I first came to the Temple. Terrible, to be honest.”

“You killed the commando droid, sir, not me.”

Linnsho shrugged.

“It was distracted. You were the much worthier foe.” Rex blinked at the strange, offhand compliment. “I simply took advantage. Here.”

She held up one of the clear, plastene bottles to him.

“What… is it?” the captain inquired as he took the object from her and skeptically eyed the liquid.

“Something to replenish your lost energy,” she said as she unscrewed the top of her canister. “It’s a mixture of water, salt, sugar, zinc, potassium, and vege oil. I also added some vitamins and powdered rice for calcium. I made it myself.” She sounded almost bashful, causing the captain to raise an eyebrow.

“It will help. I promise.”

The captain watched her drink down the entirety of her canister, before his gaze returned to the bottle he held. It sounded like it was would taste horrible.

“I do have ration bars I can eat,” he pointed out, deciding to take a seat next to her. His muscles were whining in protest, and resting a moment seemed like a wise idea.

Linnsho wiped her mouth across the back of her head and fixed him with an amused look. “Digestion will take too long. Trust me; I have plenty of experience dealing with the after-effects of healing.”

“Is that what that was?” Rex inquired since the subject had been broached. “What did you do to me, exactly?”

He didn’t think the Jedi would answer, up until she did, her eyes purposefully fixated on the bottle in her hands.

“I… borrowed your energy. I didn’t have enough of my own without falling unconscious. Normally, I would ask for your consent before doing such a thing, but there was little time and I presumed you would find it agreeable in order to save the trooper’s life.”

“Borrowed… what? Slow down.” Rex shook his head, unable to quite grasp what she was telling him.

“The Jedi refer to it as the Living Force,” Linnsho explained, quite unhelpfully in Rex’s opinion. “All forms of life are imbued with this Force. This energy. I siphoned some of that energy directly into the trooper’s body.”

“So…” Rex searched for terminology he was familiar with in order to understand her explanation. “Kind of like jump-starting an engine with a dead battery by using a live one?”

The Cathar tilted her head in thought. “It may be more accurate to say the second battery is using its charge to replenish the energy of the first, allowing it to sustain itself on its own again.”

Giving a sigh, Rex remembered why he left that kind of thing to Kix.

“Well, however it works, it felt… strange.”

“Draining the life from one’s body will do that,” Linnsho intoned grimly. “I’m sorry for not asking permission beforehand.”

“It’s fine, really. I’m willing to put myself at risk for Fives. You were right about that.” This made her burdened expression soften, at least a little. Rex was glad for that; he didn’t want her to feel guilty over saving his brother just because there had been risk.

All that mattered was Fives had survived, though Rex wished he would stop having these harrowing brushes with death so frequently.

After giving the container one last glance of suspicion, he cautiously took a sip. It wasn’t… bad. Oddly smooth as it coated this throat, probably from the oil. It was lightly sweetened, but other than that, didn’t taste like much of anything. He drank the rest of it in several gulps.

“The Jedi Order has mostly forgotten the healing arts. Bacta is so plentiful throughout most of the galaxy; I suppose they felt it was redundant.”

Rex blinked at that bit of information, not exactly sure what to do with it. He’d had no idea the Jedi had such abilities, which seemed damned unfortunate. That kind of emergency healing would be useful when stranded behind enemy lines with no backup and heavy causalities.

Rex made a mental note to ask his general about it later; Skywalker was usually willing to lend an ear to the captain’s suggestions, and more often than not took his advice. Having a Jedi healer within each platoon seemed just as prudent as having a Jedi general. Rex had known the Jedi had doctors, of course, but he’d assumed they used bacta shots and patches like any other medical professional.

It was definitely a subject Rex planned on exploring. It seemed too important _not_ to.

“Here, I’ll take that for you,” Linnsho held out her hand once she saw Rex had finished off the bottle, replacing the empty containers within her pouch.

“Thank you,” Rex said, sincere, his gratitude extending far greater than the replenishing drinks. “Thank you for saving him.”

She gave him a small smile, as if not sure she was allowed to, and said, “It was you who protected the trooper. I barely got here in time to help.”

“So you knew? That Fives was in danger?” Rex had simply assumed she had walked in at the right moment by happy accident.

“I sensed his life was threatened, yes. But by what or by whom, I couldn’t tell.” She gave a heavy sigh, and Rex was once again reminded of Kenobi. “Droids don’t exactly give off a Force-signature.”

Rex could commiserate. He had executed a commando droid in disguise on Rishi Station, placed a bolt right into the center of a trooper’s helmet. Cody had later asked him how he had _known,_ and the truth was, he hadn’t. He had made an educated guess, but it hadn’t stopped his stomach from dropping off a cliff as he had pulled the trigger. Sure, he’d displayed complete confidence after the fact, but he could have been wrong. Something he had never shared with the commander; the undeniable relief of seeing the droid’s head roll out of the trooper’s helmet.

“His life may still be in danger. I fear what has happened to Rurrik. It is no easy task to catch a Jedi unawares.”

Linnsho was speaking about one of the Jedi who volunteered in the Halls of Healing. They’d found his body, hand removed, in his quarters. He probably hadn’t stood much of a chance with the prototype commando droid, even if he’d been prepared.

The Jedi shut her eyes and added, “Whoever wanted to end the trooper’s life will not stop until they complete their task.”

Rex’s stomach clenched at the words, even more ominous coming from one of the Jedi Order.

“I only wish we knew _why_ they would go through the trouble.”

Linnsho tilted her head and fixed her thoughtful gaze on him, appearing if she were about to speak, but her mouth closed as her eyes flickered behind him.

_Whoosh._

“Rex!” Skywalker all but rushed into the room, and the captain had to move back or be barreled over. His hair was wild with recent sleep and his eyes were wide as they looked him over. “They just told me what happened! Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine, sir,” Rex assured him while his face flushed from the general’s blatant concern, embarrassed (but also slightly pleased, if he was being honest with himself). “Droid was a lousy shot. Not a scratch on me.”

“Good man,” Skywalker said warmly, clapping him on the shoulder as his face lit up in delighted relief. Then his light blue gaze moved away from Rex to a point over his shoulder.

“Master Yoda and Obi-Wan wanted to talk to you, Mish.”

Rex glanced back to the Jedi as she blinked, ears slightly drooping as she bowed her head and replied, “All right. Thank you, Anakin.”

Skywalker kept his cool gaze on her as she walked past, and didn’t turn back to the captain until she had exited the room and the door closed behind her.

“Rex,” the general began, and by his tone the trooper knew he was about to hear something he wouldn’t like. Rex had heard that cautious tilt in his voice enough time to recognize it in his sleep. “I know you’re not being entirely honest with me.”

“Sir?”

Skywalker sighed and ran a heavily gloved hand through his curly hair. “You said you weren’t hurt.”

“But, sir. I wasn’t—”

“I don’t mean the droid,” the general interrupted him as he met his gaze firmly. Insistently. But Rex didn’t know what response to give; he had no idea what the general was talking about.

“Doctor Nema told me what Mish did, Rex. You don’t need to cover for her.”

Rex furrowed his brows in response to Skywalker’s odd statement.

“Linnsho didn’t hurt me, she just…” Rex paused, not really knowing how to explain something as mystical and otherworldly as healing with the Force, so he made a gesture with his hand to say, _you know, a Jedi-thing._

“Rex. This… ability? Using the Force to repair wounds?” Skywalker’s expression darkened, like a cloud passing over the sun. “It comes at a price. The Council has warned Mish of this, she had _no_ right to put you at risk.”

If Rex was a more outspoken, hot-headed clone, he might have told Skywalker that most decisions the captain made on any given day came at a price. Successful strategies, effective tactics, even campaigns victorious came at a heavy cost.

But he wasn’t that clone, so he didn’t speak those words. Instead, Rex said, “I’m no medic, but from my experience, they will try to save their patients even if the risk is high and their chance of success is practically null.”

“What she did was dangerous, Rex. She could have killed you. _Easily.”_

“Sir, Fives was… he wasn’t _breathing_.” Rex sucked in a breath, the full force of that statement threatening to hit him, but he brushed it aside for later processing. “She asked for my help, and I gave it. I don’t regret it, sir.”

Skywalker shook his head, pacing around the small examination room in a way he would when he was feeling especially agitated.

“Fives wasn’t just unresponsive because he’d stopped breathing, Rex. He was…” Skywalker paused in his restlessness to fix Rex with a hard stare. “The oxygen-deprivation had raised his blood pressure and something near his heart ruptured. He wasn’t healed enough for his body to be put under such strain and so he… He was probably dying, Rex.”

The captain could only stare at his general, the blood slowly draining from his face.

“Mish didn’t just restart his breathing, or even his heartbeat: she sealed the internal wound and nearly killed you _both_ in the process.”

The captain had lost his ability to speak, unable to think past the fact that he had nearly lost Fives. _Again._

“So no, Rex. It doesn’t matter if you gave your permission, or that Fives was in trouble. You could have _died_ because a new Knight had decided to take matters into her own hands.”

Rex blinked; stung by the implication that he was somehow more important, more worthy of life than his brother, but the next words made his stomach drop. “I can’t have you jeopardizing your life again. I’m having you return to the base.”

“But, _sir!”_

The general raised his eyebrows at Rex’s protest, as well as the desperate plea behind them.

“I’m not debating this with you, Captain.” Skywalker crossed his sizeable arms, reaffirming he had no interesting in contending the point. “You will return to the barracks, and that’s an _order_.”

Rex’s spine automatically stiffened at Skywalker’s commanding tone, and a part of Rex hated himself for it. Hated that he would give in so easily, direct orders or no. Biting his lip, Rex raised his head to stare Skywalker in the eye.

“Yes. Sir.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Link](https://wolveria.tumblr.com/post/145724102503/cathar-jedi-mishala-linnsho-with-the-cathar-as) if you want to see what Mish looks like. Thank you everyone for your lovely comments and for putting up with my OC. I promise she'll only be around for a little bit longer.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After spending time in the barracks, Rex returns to the Temple to find Fives no longer in the bacta bay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That plot sure is thickening.
> 
> Thank you again for all your lovely comments. Y'all are the best.

Captain Rex stared miserably at the various datapads strewn across his desk, left forgotten as his mind inevitably wandered back to the Jedi Temple. Back to his brother, who was currently being healed in a second bacta tank after the first was utterly decimated in order to save his life.

If he had thought his questions would have been answered after the Jedi Masters had arrived on the scene, he would have been sorely mistaken. Generals Skywalker, Kenobi, Windu, and Shaak Ti had grilled the captain regarding the incident for at least an hour. Even the diminutive Grand Master had eventually shown up, staring at the minor destruction of the med bay with a disturbed look on his face, ears drooping unhappily.

The trooper knew this much: a Jedi Knight assigned to the Halls of Healing had not arrived during his designated evening shift, and had been later found behind one up the upper city’s colorful nightclubs. A bolt between the eyes and his hand removed postmortem. And so the mystery of what became of Healer Rurrik was solved.

Stranger still was how the commando droid had managed to steal a Temple Guard uniform; none of the watchers had gone missing, though a suit of robes had vanished from within their barracks.

This was all according to General Skywalker, who had approached Rex the next day, guilt written all over his face from their tense exchange within the Halls of Healing. “While this matter is being investigated further, I need you to remain on base. I’m sorry, Rex.”

Respectfully (but without hesitation), Rex had attempted to argue the point, but the Knight simply shook his mousy head and reiterated, “Fives is in stable condition; there’s nothing you can do for him at the moment. But _I_ need you here on the base.”

Rex raised an eyebrow, able to guess why. His Jedi hated paperwork so completely he would probably fake his own death in order to get out of signing a few forms.

“It’s only for a couple days. I know how concerned you are about Fives, but there are guards stationed all over the Halls and within the bacta medical bay.” Skywalker added the incentive he knew Rex would give in for:

“By the time you’ve cleared your backlog, Fives should be awake and I’ll make sure you can visit him. I promise.”

And that was how the captain found himself for the next two days signing requisition forms, reviewing sit-reps, and pouring over mind-numbing diplomatic documents that made him want to find a strong bottle of Corellian brandy.

He was tempted to dump the rest of his workload on Cody (his brother seemed to _like_ this kind of thing), but Rex was nearly caught up with the queue of cases that needed scrutinizing; everything from blaster rifle maintenance requests to bacta bandage replenishment. Rex stared at that last one, finger tapping against his lip, before he decided to order extras, along with some stimpacks and some portable field bacta tanks. Cody would have some strong words to say if he found out about the improvised (and very generous) order, but the expenditure was worth it as far as Rex was concerned. He’d acquired a new appreciation for medics after everything that had happened to Fives.

Plus, it would be nice to give Kix some good news for once; the medic had little to smile about these days.

The captain checked his comm. It was nearly 1900 and Skywalker still hadn’t returned his communique. This wasn’t especially unusual; the general was technically off-duty and was not required to answer non-emergency messages. Rex also had a good idea of where his Jedi had disappeared to. There was no doubt Skywalker hadn’t a clue that Rex had figured out his private relationship with Senator Amidala a long time ago. The general’s poor attempts at secrecy was something of a running joke in Torrent Company, and Rex figured if Skywalker got to take a night off, so did the captain.

At least, that’s what he told himself as he picked up his bucket and tucked it under his arm as he left his small, sequestered office.

Skywalker hadn’t _specifically_ forbid Rex from returning to the Jedi Temple. He had ordered him to remain on-base until his tasks were complete, and they were. It wasn’t his fault he couldn’t reach the general to ask permission to visit his brother. Besides, if his general needed him, he would reach out by comm. And if the healers didn’t want Rex there, they could simply turn him away. There was absolutely nothing problematic about the captain visiting one of his troopers in the Jedi hospital.

And such was Rex’s state of mind as he borrowed a Republic-issue airspeeder and piloted it through the early night traffic toward the golden-lit, massive ziggurat in the distance. Anxious, stressed, but with the tiniest bit of hope that would probably amount to nothing. It was four days since Fives had been wounded, and according to Doctor Nema’s timeline, he had at least one more day of bacta-tank treatment before it was safe for him to emerge.

Rex didn’t know what he would say first to Fives when he was finally awake. He had a mountain of questions, a pile of uncertainties so high he wouldn’t know where to begin.

The captain guided the hovercraft into one of the smaller hangars on the southwest quadrant of the Temple, parking within the designated area for the smaller vessel. There were a couple of light interceptors used by the Jedi stationed within; otherwise it was empty, as the hanger was normally used for visitors and Jedi diplomats.

Before Rex had even exited his vehicle, he was approached by a pair of Jedi Temple Guards and asked to identify himself. The captain was glad to see they were at least taking the attempt on Fives’ life seriously, and after he provided credentials of his identity and stated where he was going, he was permitted to pass and proceed to the Halls of Healing. Strangely, he did not see any Jedi at the desk, only a silver protocol droid.

“Is Master Nema here?” Rex figured if he was going to be in the Halls, he might as well alert the chief medical healer to his arrival.

“Please proceed to the triage center. It is your first door on the right,” the droid responded with a high, lilting vocoder.

“Uh… All right.”

By the droid’s instructions, Rex assumed the doctor would be within the expansive, busy room, but he didn’t see her after entering through its wide doors. A healer he didn’t recognize, a small Rodian with pebbly teal skin, greeted him instead.

“Can I help you, trooper?” the Rodian asked in an anxious, hurried tone, and Rex could guess as to why. The Hall was much more crowded than before, nearly filled to capacity as Rex noted nearly every bed was occupied.

“Yes. I don’t believe we’ve met, but my name is Captain Rex.” There was a small flicker in the healer’s pupil-less eyes, but whether of recognition or something else, he wasn’t sure. “Is Doctor Nema still working this evening?”

“She’s in the operation theater,” the healer responded, and from the octave of their voice Rex was unable to pinpoint their gender. “But she should be finishing up in an hour or two, if you wish to wait in one of the meditation chambers?”

Rex tried not to make a dubious expression, and instead said, “It’s not urgent. I was going to visit trooper Fives, and wanted to let her know I was here.”

“O-oh.” The Rodian turned away from him, as if to distract themselves with their patient, but Rex had glimpsed the sudden widening of their eyes, the nervous twitch of their antennae.

Some body language was just universal.

“You sh-should really wait, for Master Nema,” the Jedi stammered, unable to look the captain in the eye.

Rex tried to rein in the panic that tried to blossom in his chest, and he moved around the bed of the healer’s patient, an Ithorian Jedi wearing some type of bulky, complicated breathing contraption around his double mouths, so the healer couldn’t avoid his gaze.

“Has something happened to him? To Fives?” With a completely illogical leap, Rex was convinced it was Fives the doctor was operating on. His health must have taken a turn for the worse.

 _I should have never left,_ Rex thought bitterly. _I should have—_

“It is as I said, Captain,” the timid healer responded, their voice slightly cracking. “Master Nema will be here soon to answer your questions.”

Thinking quickly while smoothing any signs of concern from his face, Rex calmly stated, “Of course. I’ll make use of one of those meditation chambers.”

The relief on the Rodian’s face was very apparent as they gave a small bow and replied, “Thank you for your cooperation.”

Rex felt a small pang of guilt, but not nearly enough to halt his feet as he walked past a doorway labeled as a “reflection room.” Instead, his steps carried him onward, boots padding softly along the turquoise floor, the underwater-like glow of the corridor lending his surroundings a dream-like quality. Rex wondered if the color scheme was supposed to be comforting, and it only served to make the captain more wary considering how easily that sense of safety could be shattered.

As Rex entered the bacta bay, he paused and blinked in confusion. The chambers were filled with the forms of Jedi in varying stages of injury, all fairly severe. Medical droids busily moved from terminal to terminal, and not a few healers were present as well.

A devastating battle must have recently taken place for this many Jedi to be injured. Rex’s eyebrows furrowed as he strode across the bay, glancing over each tank as he didn’t know exactly which one Fives now occupied after his original container was destroyed.

A sense of frustration began to grow within the captain as his brother was nowhere to be found.

“Excuse me.” Rex blinked and dodged out of the way as a 2-1B medical droid nearly jabbed him with its needle appendage, moving past on its way to another part of the medical facility. The captain quickly followed after the droid.

“I’m looking for a patient. He should be in a bacta tank, but I don’t see him anywhere. Has ARC Trooper Fives been moved?”

The droid ignored him, and Rex reached out to grab it by the shoulder as he turned it around to face him. It looked down at the hand, as if finding the touch rude.

“It is not within my parameters to assist wayward visitors whose priorities do not supersede my own.” The droid moved away, practically shaking him off, and Rex frowned. Clearly the droids were of no help, so he looked around for a Jedi that didn’t appear in the middle of a task.

Unfortunately, they were all busy with one tank or another, so Rex exited the bay and approached one of the pairs of tan-robed sentinels that took guard outside of the medical bay.

“Master Jedi,” Rex began in a respectful tone toward the stoic, masked figure. “I apologize for bothering you, but do you know where trooper Fives has been relocated? He’s no longer in the bacta medical bay.”

The white-and-gold mask remained silent and still, as if the person underneath were stone rather than flesh. The captain glanced to the second guard on the other side of the door, but he remained just as immovable, one wrist resting on the small of his back while the other arm remained loose but ready at his side.

Rex’s own limbs were not so relaxed, and he clenched his fist in agitation at the lack of general helpfulness tonight. He turned away from the statuesque duo, deciding right then and there that he would find Fives himself. The Jedi did seem genuinely weighted with the burdens of constant war, surely they wouldn’t mind if the captain assisted himself while they focused on more important tasks.

Rex had to wonder when he had become so comfortable convincing himself to flex and bend protocols and procedures. He could take a wild guess, and say the brother he was attempting to locate was a big part of it.

While trying not to appear too out of place, or at least no more out of place than a clone in battered, scuffed armor might be noticeable among pristinely-robed Jedi Knights, Rex peeked into each medical room he came across, made possible by the fact each one had a small viewing port in the door.

After almost being barreled over by a hovering GH-7 medical droid as it was leaving a private medical room, Rex decided he needed to be much smarter about this.

If the Jedi were keeping a recently-assaulted, high-priority patient within the Halls, where would they relocate him?

The solution seemed painfully obvious once Rex actually paused to think on it. Fives would be where the highest concentration of Jedi Guards would be, of course. And since he had left the bacta bay, he had only seen one or two stationed through the expansive medical wing. He needed to go deeper. Further into the medical complex without rousing suspicion or garnering unwanted attention.

Fortunately, Rex had a sort of calm confidence that he could exude when necessary, gained from years of rigorous training, grueling drills, and the sort of assurance that came when leading brothers to their possible deaths every time they touched down on some foreign, hostile planet.

So when he strode farther into the Halls than he had ever been before, chin held at an authoritative angle with his shoulders slightly pulled back, no one questioned him. Not that he wasn’t noticed, every healer he passed gave him a studious glance, but he would give them a respectful nod and they would continue on. From the briskness of their paces, it was clear every Jedi within the Halls had their hands full that night.

It should have made Rex abashed for taking advantage of their lack of scrutiny, but he was _worried_. Fives should have been in a bacta tank, it was still too early for him to have emerged. They must have moved him to a more secure location; surely he was still on Temple grounds. Where would Fives be safer than within the sanctum of the most powerful beings in the galaxy?

That black pit of dread in his gut slowly dissolved his poise but not dampening his determination. He would search the damn place floor to ceiling, and if he found no sign of his brother, he would wait for the chief healer herself.

A part of himself, the more rational, sensible part, told him Rex he should wait anyway. But the part of him that couldn’t shake the image of Fives on the warehouse floor, smoke curdling from his chest? _That_ part of him wouldn’t let it go. Wouldn’t shake the bad feeling that he needed to watch over Fives, needed to look out for him. It didn’t matter that Rex couldn’t actually do much for him, it just mattered that he was there.

If only Rex knew where he actually was now that he’d wandered so far from the bacta bay. The massive, soft-pink pillars were no longer decorating the wide corridors. It was dimmer, less grandiose and more ancient. Scuffed faded green marble flooring with faded grey walls. It was clean, but obviously the maintenance droids did not bother to upkeep this section of the Temple past the most basic care.

The captain slowed his steps then came to a halt as he discovered something ordinary yet odd considering the location. Before him was an open landing to a descending staircase. The Temple usually contained turbolifts, though Rex supposed they must have stairwells for emergencies in case the lifts lost functionality.

Casting a glance up and down the deserted hallway for any other occupants, and finding himself alone, Rex approached the staircase and descended the marble steps, gloved hand lightly sliding along the stone balustrade. When lifted them to examine his fingertips. His eyes slightly narrowed when he found them still perfectly black. No signs of dust at all from such a clearly disused section of the Temple.

The staircase only doubled back once, revealing a second lower level to the Halls of Healing that appeared to be some sort of storage area. Various plasteel containers and crates were stacked in neat columns along a middle walkway, functional rather than aesthetics lighting the room.

Rex immediately knew he was in the right place. At the end of the storage area, no less than four tan-robed Jedi sentinels stood on either side of a single thick durasteel door. Their golden silhouettes were unsettling in the stark surroundings, as if they were watchers from an ancient, bygone era.

Rex didn’t slow his gait, striding forward with authoritative confidence until the two guards farthest from the door step forward, unbuckled their long lightsaber hilts, and activated their twin yellow pike blades.

The captain came to a very fast halt, eyeing the thrumming blades warily.

One of the guards nearest the door stepped forward, and Rex had no doubt that despite his lightsaber was still attached to his sash, he was no less deadly with empty hands.

“This is a restricted area,” the mask informed him, holding a palm forward as Rex lightly tensed, half-expecting the Jedi to use his formidable powers against the captain before he had a chance to respond. But the guard didn’t make a move against him, instead remaining still, immovable, and in Rex’s way.

“My name is Captain Rex, General Skywalker’s first in command over the 501st Legion, and I am looking for ARC Trooper Fives.” Rex squared his shoulders as he looked full into the mask of the sentinel addressing him. “Do you know where I may find him?”

The bladed sentinels remained still but ominously close, and the sound of their humming weapons made Rex’s skin ripple unpleasantly.

“I am tasked with verifying his status and reporting it to my commander.” Technically a lie, he didn’t think Skywalker would mind, especially if they had secreted Fives away without his knowledge.

The sentinels didn’t answer, instead staring down at them from their impressive height with their impassioned veils.

“As his commanding officer, the trooper is _my_ responsibility,” Rex stated, brows furrowing at the lack of responsiveness. “Tell me where he has been relocated.”

The sentinel spoke again, voice modulator giving the speaker as much warmth and humanity as a battle droid.

“Please return to the upper level, clone.”

Rex narrowed his eyes.

“Contact General Skywalker. He will verify what I’ve told you.”

The guards remained silent but steadfast, their bodies nearly blocking his view of what they guarded.

“He’s beyond that door, isn’t he?” Rex nearly growled, scowling as he looked back up to the Jedi protectorate.

“Leave. Or you will be forcibly removed.”

As the words were spoken, another double-hiss was heard as the third, silent watcher ignited his lightsaber pike, stepping forward in a blatant show of intimidation. Rex gripped the helmet against his side tighter, eyes narrowing as his jaw clenched.

“You may threaten me.” Rex actually did growl this time, nose crinkling like a threatened massiff as he said through his teeth, “But you will _not_ turn me away.”

The two guards nearest circled behind Rex in one fluid motion, and the captain tensed his muscles in preparation as the Jedi who had spoken reached out a gloved hand, palm forward—

“What are you doing?”

The question was voiced from behind, and Rex looked over his shoulder at the speaker, blood pounding in his ears from the rush of adrenaline. Linnsho stood stock still, watching the scene with surprise and confusion. There was a tray with a covered bowl in her hands.

“Linnsho,” Rex began quickly, desperation in his voice, “Just tell me if Fives is here, tell me if he—”

“This trooper is being removed for trespassing into a Council-sanctioned restricted area.” A firm hand clamped onto Rex’s shoulder, and Rex shot the offending guard a heated glare.

“No. He’s not.”

Rex assumed she was speaking to him. That Fives was not beyond the door. But her narrowed eyes were not looking in his direction; rather she appeared focused on the cluster of guards. Her voice was firm as she stated, “I have requested Captain Rex’s presence.”

Her eyes flickered to Rex’s before she added, “His commander wishes to be updated on the trooper’s progress.”

The sentinels didn’t move aside, but their masks did tilt toward each other to exchange an obscured, silent glance.

“Will you please step aside so I may check on Master Nema’s patient? Or should I comm her to give the order herself?” the Cathar said dryly. “I’m sure she would appreciate being interrupted from an extremely delicate, two-hour procedure of repairing Master Kcaj’s shattered right pelvis.”

After a heavy pause, lightsabers were extinguished with a sizzling hiss.

The Cathar strode forward, barely giving them time to part around her as she aimed straight for the thick, durasteel door set in a massive frame. She sent a quick glance Rex’s way as she moved past, and he immediately followed, shooting an irritated glare at the robed watchers.

The Jedi paused, balancing the small tray on one palm as she passed the other over a black panel next to the doorframe. It wasn’t any type of door pad that Rex could identify, and by the fact that she didn’t physically touch the panel, the captain assumed it required the Force to activate.

From within the door came the sound of magnetic locks disengaging and Rex couldn’t stop the look of confusion he expressed. The door slid open slowly, as if with great effort, and the captain’s stomach roiled with nerves as he stepped over the indented threshold, following after the Cathar before stopping dead in his tracks, the door shutting behind him with a loud click.


End file.
